THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


LAYS 
OF  THE 
SCOTTISH 
CAVALIERS 

AND 

OTHER  POEMS 


This  Volume  is  a  verbatim  reprint  of  the  first  edition  (184.9). 


^  BUSS     SANDS    6c  C? 

LONDON?  IMDCCCXCVI 


TO 

THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

ARCHIBAID  WILLIAM  HAMILTON-MONTGOMERIE, 
JEarl  of  lEGlinton  an&  Minton, 

THE    PATRIOTIC   AND    NOBLE   REPRESENTATIVE   OP 

AN   ANCIENT   SCOTTISH   RACE, 

THIS  VOLUME   IS    RESPECTFULLY    INSCRIBED 

BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS 


LAYS    OF    THE    SCOTTISH    CAVALIERS 


EDINBURGH   AFTER   FLODDEN 
THE   EXECUTION   OF   MONTROSE 
THE   HEART   OF   THE   BRUCE 
THE   BURIAL   MARCH   OF   DUNDEE 
THE   WIDOW   OP   GLENCOE 
THE   ISLAND   OF   THE   SCOTS 
CHARLES   EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 
THE   OLD   SCOTTISH   CAVALIER 


PAGE 

9 

31 

52 

67 

91 

109 

131 

177 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS 


BLIND   OLD   MILTON                 .                     .                      .                . 

197 

HERMOTIMUS         ..... 

204 

(ENONE                      ..... 

216 

THE   BURIED   FLOWER            .                     .                     .                . 

220 

THE   OLD   CAMP    .                     .                      ... 

231 

DANUBE   AND   THE   EUXINE 

235 

THE   SCHEIK   OF   SINAI          .                      ... 

238 

EPITAPH   OP   CONSTANTINE   KANARIS 

243 

THE  REFUSAL  OF  CHARON 

244 

LAYS 


OF 


THE    SCOTTISH    CAVALIERS 

EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN 

The  great  battle  of  Flodden  was  fought  upon  the 
9th  of  September,  1513,  The  defeat  of  the  Scottish 
army,  mainly  owing  to  the  fantastic  ideas  of  chivalry 
entertained  by  James  IV.,  and  his  refusal  to  avail 
himself  of  the  natural  advantages  of  his  position, 
was  by  far  the  most  disastrous  of  any  recounted  in 
the  history  of  the  northern  wars.  The  whole 
strength  of  the  kingdom,  both  Lowland  and  Highland, 
was  assembled,  and  the  contest  was  one  of  the 
sternest  and  most  desperate  upon  record. 

For  several  hours  the  issue  seemed  doubtful.  On 
the  left  the  Scots  obtained  a  decided  advantage 
on  the  right  wing  they  were  broken  and  overthrown; 
and  at  last  the  whole  weight  of  the  liattle  was 
brought  into  the  centre,  where  King  James  and  the 
Earl  of  Surrey  commanded  in  person.  The  deter- 
mined valour  of  James,  imprudent  as  it  was,  had 
the  effect  of    rousing  to  a  pitch  of    desperation  the 


10  EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN 

courage  of  the  meanest  soldiers ;  and  the  ground 
becoming  soft  and  slippery  from  blood,  they  pulled 
off  their  boots  and  shoes,  and  secured  a  firmer 
footing  by  fighting  in  their  hose. 

"  It  is  owned,"  says  Abercromby,  "  that  both 
parties  did  wonders,  but  none  on  either  side  performed 
more  than  the  King  himself.  He  was  again  told 
that  by  coming  to  handy  blows  he  could  do  no 
more  than  another  man,  whereas,  by  keeping  the 
post  due  to  Ms  station,  he  might  be  worth  many 
thousands.  Yet  he  would  not  only  fight  in  person, 
but  also  on  foot;  for  he  no  sooner  saw  that  body 
of  the  English  give  way  which  was  defeated  by  the 
Earl  of  Huntley,  but  he  alighted  from  his  horse, 
and  commanded  his  guard  of  noblemen  and  gentlemen 
to  do  the  like  and  follow  him.  He  had  at  first 
abundance  of  success;  but  at  length  the  Lord 
Thomas  Howard  and  Sir  Edward  Stanley,  who  had 
defeated  their  opposites,  coming  in  with  the  Lord 
Dacre's  horse,  and  surrounding  the  King's  battalion 
on  all  sides,  the  Scots  were  so  distressed  that,  for 
their  last  defence,  they  cast  themselves  into  a  ring; 
and  being  resolved  to  die  nobly  with  their  sovereign, 
who  scorned  to  ask  quarter,  were  altogether  cut  off. 
So  say  the  English  writers,  and  I  am  apt  to  believe 
that  they  are  in  the  right." 

The  battle  was  maintained  with  desperate  fury 
until  nightfall.  At  the  close,  according  to  Mr. 
Tytler,  "  Surrey  was  uncertain  of  the  result  of  the 
battle :    the  remains  of   the  enemy's  centre  still  held 


EDINBURGH   AFTER   FLODDEN  ii 

the  field ;  Home,  with  his  Borderers,  still  hovered  on 
the  left;  and  the  commander  wisely  allowed  neither 
pursuit  nor  plunder,  but  drew  off  his  men,  and  kept 
a  strict  watch  during  the  night.  When  the  morning 
broke,  the  Scottish  artillery  were  seen  standing  de- 
serted on  the  side  of  the  hill ;  their  defenders  had 
disappeared ;  and  the  Earl  ordered  thanks  to  be  given 
for  a  victory  which  was  no  longer  doubtful.  Yet,  even 
after  all  this,  a  body  of  the  Scots  appeared  unbroken 
upon  a  hill,  and  were  about  to  charge  the  Lord- 
Admiral,  when  they  were  compelled  to  leave  their 
position  by  a  discharge  of  the  English  ordnance. 

"  The  loss  of  the  Scots  in  this  fatal  battle  amounted 
to  about  ten  thousand  men.  Of  these,  a  great  propor- 
tion were  of  high  rank ;  the  remainder  being  composed 
of  the  gentry,  the  farmers,  and  landed  yeomanry,  who 
disdained  to  fly  when  their  sovereign  and  his  nobles 
lay  stretched  in  heaps  around  them."  Besides  King 
James,  there  fell  at  Flodden  the  Archbishop  of  St. 
Andrew's,  thirteen  earls,  two  bishops,  two  abbots, 
fifteen  lords  and  chiefs  of  clans,  and  five  peers'  eldest 
sons,  besides  La  Motte  the  French  ambassador,  and 
the  secretary  of  the  King.  The  same  historian  adds 
— "  The  names  of  the  gentry  who  fell  are  too  numerous 
for  recapitulation,  since  there  were  few  families  of  note 
in  Scotland  which  did  not  lose  one  relative  or  another, 
whilst  some  houses  had  to  weep  the  death  of  all. 
It  is  from  this  cause  that  the  sensations  of  sorrow 
and  national  lamentation  occasioned  by  the  defeat 
were    peculiarly    poignant    and    lasting — so    that    to 


12  EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN 

this  day  few  Scotsmen  can  hear  the  name  of  Flodden 
without  a  shudder  of  gloomy  regret." 

The  loss  to  Edinburgh  on  this  occasion  was  pe- 
culiarly great.  All  the  magistrates  and  able-bodied 
citizens  had  followed  their  King  to  Flodden,  whence 
very  few  of  them  returned.  The  office  of  Provost 
or  chief  magistrate  of  the  capital  was  at  that  time 
an  object  of  amliition,  and  was  conferred  only  upon 
persons  of  higli  rank  and  station.  There  seems 
to  be  some  uncertainty  whether  the  holder  of  this 
dignity  at  the  time  of  the  battle  of  Flodden  was  Sir 
Alexander  Lauder,  ancestor  of  the  Fountainhall  family, 
who  was  elected  in  1511,  or  that  great  historical 
personage,  Archibald  Earl  of  Angus,  better  known  as 
Archibald  Bell-the-Cat,  who  was  chosen  in  1513,  the 
year  of  the  battle.  Both  of  them  were  at  Flodden. 
The  name  of  Sir  Alexander  Lauder  appears  upon 
the  list  of  the  slain ;  Angus  was  one  of  the  survivors, 
but  his  son,  George,  Master  of  Angus,  fell  fighting 
gallantly  by  the  side  of  King  James.  The  city  records 
of  Edinburgh,  which  commence  about  this  period,  are 
not  clear  upon  the  point,  and  I  am  rather  inclined 
to  think  that  the  Earl  of  Angus  was  elected  to  supply 
the  place  of  Lauder.  But  although  the  actual 
magistrates  were  absent,  they  had  formally  nominated 
deputies  in  their  stead.  I  find,  on  referring  to  the 
city  records,  that  "George  of  Tours"  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  officiate  in  the  absence  of  the  Provost, 
and  that  four  other  persons  were  selected  to  discharge 
the  office  of  bailies  until  the  magistrates  should  return. 


EDINBURGH    AFTER    FLODDEN  13 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  consternation  which 
pervaded  the  whole  of  Scotland  when  the  intelligence 
of  the  defeat  became  known.  In  Edinburgh  it  was  ex- 
cessive.    Mr.  Arnot,  in  the  history  of  that  city,  says, — 

"The  news  of  their  overthrow  in  the  field  of 
Flodden  reached  Edinburgh  on  the  day  after  the 
battle,  and  overwhelmed  the  inhabitants  with  grief 
and  confusion.  The  streets  were  crowded  with  women 
seeking  intelligence  about  their  friends,  clamouring 
and  weeping.  I'hose  who  officiated  in  absence  of  the 
magistrates  proved  themselves  worthy  of  the  trust. 
They  issued  a  proclamation,  ordering  all  the  inhabit- 
ants to  assemble  in  military  array  for  defence  of  the 
city,  on  the  tolling  of  the  bell ;  and  conmianding,  '  that 
all  women,  and  especially  strangers,  do  repair  to  their 
work,  and  not  be  seen  upon  the  street  darnorand  and 
crycmd ;  and  that  women  of  the  better  sort  do  repair 
to  the  church  and  offer  up  prayers,  at  the  stated  hours, 
for  our  Sovereign  Lord  and  his  army,  and  the  towns- 
men who  are  with  the  army.' " 

Indeed  the  council  records  bear  ample  evidence 
of  the  emergency  of  that  occasion.  Tliroughout  the 
earlier  pages,  the  word  "  Flow^doun  "  frequently  occurs 
on  the  margin,  in  reference  to  various  hurried  orders 
for  arming  and  defence ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that,  had  the  English  forces  attempted  to  follow  up 
their  victory,  and  attack  the  Scottish  capital,  the 
citizens  would  have  resisted  to  the  last.  But  it  soon 
became  apparent  that  the  loss  sustained  by  the  English 
was  so  severe,  that  Surrey  was  in  no  condition  to  avail 


14  EDINBURGH    AFTER    FLODDEN 

himself  of  the  opportunity ;  and  in  fact,  shortly  after- 
wards, he  was  compelled  to  disband  his  army. 

The  references  to  the  city  banner,  contained  in  the 
following  poem,  may  require  a  word  of  explanation. 
It  is  a  standard  still  held  in  great  honour  and  reverence 
by  the  burghers  of  Edinburgh,  having  been  presented 
to  them  by  James  the  Third,  in  return  for  their  loyal 
service  in  1482.  This  banner,  along  with  that  of  the 
Earl  Marischal,  still  conspicuous  in  the  Library  of  the 
Faculty  of  Advocates,  was  honourably  brought  back 
from  riodden,  and  certainly  never  could  have  been  dis- 
played in  a  more  memorable  field.  Maitland  says,  with 
reference  to  this  very  interesting  relic  of  antiquity, — 

"As  a  perpetual  remembrance  of  the  loyalty  and 
bravery  of  the  Edinburghers  on  the  aforesaid  occasion, 
the  King  granted  them  a  banner  or  standard,  with  a 
power  to  display  the  same  in  defence  of  their  king, 
country,  and  their  own  rights.  This  flag  is  kept  by 
the  Convener  of  the  Trades;  at  whose  appearance 
therewith,  it  is  said  that  not  only  the  artificers  of 
Edinburgh  are  obliged  to  repair  to  it,  but  all  the 
artisans  or  craftsmen  within  Scotland  are  bound  to 
follow  it,  and  fight  under  the  Convener  of  Edinburgh 
as  aforesaid." 

No  event  in  Scottish  history  ever  took  a  more  last- 
ing hold  of  the  public  mind  than  the  "  woeful  fight " 
of  riodden;  and,  even  now,  the  songs  and  traditions 
which  are  current  on  the  Border  recall  the  memory  of 
a  contest  unsullied  by  disgrace,  though  terminating  in 
disaster  and  defeat. 


EDINBURGH  AFTER  FLODDEN 


I. 

News  of  battle  ! — news  of  battle  ! 

Hark  !  't  is  ringing  down  the  street : 
And  the  archways  and  the  pavement 

Bear  the  clang  of  hurrying  feet. 
News  of  battle  ?     Who  hath  brought  it  ? 

News  of  triumph  ?     Who  should  bring 
Tidings  from  our  noble  army, 

Greetings  from  our  gallant  King  ? 
All  last  night  we  watched  the  beacons 

Blazing  on  the  hills  afar, 
Each  one  bearing,  as  it  kindled, 

Message  of  the  opened  war. 
All  night  long  the  northern  streamers 

Shot  across  the  trembling  sky  : 
Fearful  lights,  that  never  beckon 

Save  when  kings  or  heroes  die. 

II. 
News  of  battle  !     Who  hath  brought  it  ? 

All  are  thronging  to  the  gate  ; 
"  Warder — warder !  open  quickly  ! 

Man — is  this  a  time  to  wait  ? " 


i6  EDINBURGH    AFTER    FLODDEN 

And  the  heavy  gates  are  opened : 

Then  a  murmur  long  and  loud, 
And  a  cry  of  fear  and  wonder 

Bursts  from  out  the  bending  crowd. 
For  they  see  in  battered  harness 

Only  one  hard-stricken  man, 
And  his  weary  steed  is  wounded, 

And  his  cheek  is  pale  and  wan. 
Spearless  hangs  a  bloody  banner 

In  his  weak  and  drooping  hand — 
God !  can  that  be  Randolph  IMurray, 

Captain  of  the  city  band  ? 


III. 

Eound  him  crush  the  people,  crying, 

"  Tell  us  all— oh,  tell  us  true ! 
Where  are  they  who  went  to  battle, 

Randolph  Murray,  sworn  to  you  ? 
Where  are  they,  our  brothers — children  ? 

Have  they  met  the  English  foe  ? 
Why  art  thou  alone,  unfollowed  ? 

Is  it  weal,  or  is  it  woe  ? " 
Like  a  corpse  the  grisly  warrior 

Looks  from  out  his  helm  of  steel ; 
But  no  word  he  speaks  in  answer, 

Only  with  his  armed  heel 
Chides  his  weary  steed,  and  onward 

Up  the  city  streets  they  ride ; 


EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN  17 

Fathers,  sisters,  mothers,  children, 

Shriekiug,  praying  by  his  side. 
"  By  the  God  that  made  thee,  Eandolph  ! 

Tell  us  what  mischance  hath  come  ! " 
Then  he  lifts  his  riven  banner, 

And  the  asker's  voice  is  dumb. 


IV. 

The  elders  of  the  city 

Have  met  within  their  hall — 
The  men  whom  good  King  James  had  charged 

To  watch  the  tower  and  wall. 
"  Your  hands  are  weak  with  age,"  he  said, 

"  Your  hearts  are  stout  and  true ; 
So  bide  ye  in  the  Maiden  Town, 

While  others  fight  for  you. 
My  trumpet  from  the  Border-side 

Shall  send  a  blast  so  clear. 
That  all  who  wait  within  the  gate 

That  stirring  sound  may  hear. 
Or,  if  it  be  the  will  of  heaven 

That  back  I  never  come. 
And  if,  instead  of  Scottish  shouts. 

Ye  hear  the  English  drum, — 
Then  let  the  warning  bells  ring  out, 

Then  gird  you  to  the  fray. 
Then  man  the  walls  like  burghers  stout, 

And  fight  while  light  you  may. 

B 


i8  EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN 

'T  were  better  that  in  fiery  flame 
The  roofs  should  thunder  down, 

Than  that  the  foot  of  foreign  foe 
Should  trample  in  the  town  ! " 


Then  in  came  Randolph  Murray, — 

His  step  was  slow  and  weak. 
And,  as  he  doffed  his  dinted  helm, 

The  tears  ran  down  his  cheek : 
They  fell  upon  his  corslet, 

And  on  his  mailed  hand, 
As  he  gazed  around  him  wistfully, 

Leaning  sorely  on  his  brand. 
And  none  who  then  beheld  him 

But  straight  were  smote  with  fear, 
For  a  bolder  and  a  sterner  man 

Had  never  couched  a  spear. 
They  knew  so  sad  a  messenger 

Some  ghastly  news  must  bring  : 
And  all  of  them  were  fathers, 

And  their  sons  were  with  the  King. 

VI. 

And  up  then  rose  the  Provost — 

A  brave  old  man  was  he, 
Of  ancient  name  and  knightly  fame. 

And  chivalrous  degree. 
He  ruled  our  city  like  a  Lord 


EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN  19 

Who  brooked  no  equal  here, 
And  ever  for  the  townsmen's  rights 

Stood  up  'gainst  prince  and  peer. 
And  he  had  seen  the  Scottish  host 

March  from  the  Borough-muir, 
With  music-storm  and  clamorous  shout 
And  all  the  din  that  thunders  out, 

When  youth 's  of  victory  sure. 
But  yet  a  dearer  thought  had  he, 

For,  with  a  father's  pride, 
He  saw  his  last  remaining  son 

Go  forth  by  Kandolph's  side, 
With  casque  on  head  and  spur  on  heel. 

All  keen  to  do  and  dare ; 
And  proudly  did  that  gallant  boy 

Dunedin's  banner  bear. 
Oh,  woeful  now  was  the  old  man's  look. 

And  he  spake  right  heavily — 
"  Now,  Randolph,  tell  thy  tidings. 

However  sharp  they  be ! 
Woe  is  written  on  thy  visage, 

Death  is  looking  from  thy  face : 
Speak,  though  it  be  of  overthrow — 

It  cannot  be  disgrace ! " 

VII. 

Right  bitter  was  the  agony 

That  wrung  the  soldier  proud : 
Thrice  did  he  strive  to  answer, 

And  thrice  he  groaned  aloud. 


20  EDINBURGH    AFTER    FLODDEN 

Then  he  gave  the  riven  banner 

To  the  old  man's  shaking  hand, 
Saying — "  That  is  all  I  bring  ye 
From  the  bravest  of  the  land  ! 
Ay  !  ye  may  look  upon  it — 

It  was  guarded  well  and  long, 
By  your  brothers  and  your  children, 

By  the  valiant  and  the  strong. 
One  by  one  they  fell  around  it, 
As  the  archers  laid  them  low, 
Grimly  dying,  still  uuconquered, 

With  their  faces  to  the  foe. 
Ay  !  ye  well  may  look  upon  it — 

There  is  more  than  honour  there, 
Else,  be  sure,  I  had  not  brought  it 
From  the  field  of  dark  despair. 
Never  yet  was  royal  banner 

Steeped  in  such  a  costly  dye ; 
It  hath  lain  upon  a  bosom 

Where  no  other  shroud  shall  lie. 
Sirs  !  I  charge  you  keep  it  holy, 

Keep  it  as  a  sacred  thing, 
For  the  stain  you  see  upon  it 

Was  the  life-blood  of  your  King ! " 

VIII. 

Woe,  woe,  and  lamentation ! 

What  a  piteous  cry  was  there  ! 
Widows,  maidens,  mothers,  children, 

Shrieking,  sobbing  in  despair ! 


EDINBURGH    AFTER    FLODDEN  21 

Through  the  streets  the  death- word  rushes, 

Spreading  terror,  sweeping  on — 
"  Jesu  Christ !  our  King  has  fallen — 

0  great  God,  King  James  is  gone ! 
Holy  Mother  Mary,  shield  us, 

Thou  who  erst  did  lose  thy  Son ! 
O  the  blackest  day  for  Scotland 

That  slie  ever  knew  before  ! 
O  our  King — the  good,  the  noble. 

Shall  we  see  him  never  more  ? 
Woe  to  us  and  woe  to  Scotland, 

0  our  sons,  our  sons  and  men ! 
Surely  some  liave  'scaped  the  Southron, 

Surely  some  will  come  again  !  " 
Till  the  oak  that  fell  last  winter 

Shall  uprear  its  shattered  stem — 
Wives  and  mothers  of  Dunedin — 

Ye  may  look  in  vain  for  them  ! 

IX. 

But  within  the  Council  Chamber 

All  was  silent  as  the  grave. 
Whilst  the  tempest  of  their  sorrow 

Shook  the  bosoms  of  the  brave. 
Well  indeed  might  they  be  shaken 

With  the  weight  of  such  a  blow : 
He  was  gone — their  prince,  their  idol, 

Whom  they  loved  and  worshipped  so ! 
Like  a  knell  of  death  and  judgment 

Rung  from  heaven  by  angel  hand. 


22  EDINBURGH   AFTER   FLODDEN 

Fell  the  words  of  desolation 

On  the  elders  of  the  land. 
Hoary  heads  were  bowed  and  trembling, 

Withered  hands  were  clasped  and  wrung 
God  had  left  the  old  and  feeble, 

He  had  ta'en  away  the  young. 


Then  the  Provost  he  uprose, 

And  his  lip  was  ashen  white, 
But  a  flush  was  on  his  brow. 
And  his  eye  was  full  of  light. 
"  Thou  hast  spoken,  Eandolph  Murray, 
Like  a  soldier  stout  and  true  ; 
Thou  hast  done  a  deed  of  daring 
Had  been  perilled  but  by  few. 
For  thou  hast  not  shamed  to  face  us, 

Nor  to  speak  thy  ghastly  tale, 
Standing — thou,  a  knight  and  captain- 
Here,  alive  within  thy  mail ! 
Now,  as  my  God  shall  judge  me, 

I  hold  it  braver  done, 
Than  hadst  thou  tarried  in  thy  place. 

And  died  above  my  son  ! 
Thou  needst  not  tell  it :  he  is  dead. 

God  help  us  all  this  day ! 
But  speak — how  fought  the  citizens 
Within  the  furious  fray  ? 


EDINBURGH   AFTER   FLODDEN  23 

For,  by  the  might  of  Mary, 

'T  were  something  still  to  tell 
That  no  Scottish  foot  went  backward 

When  the  Koyal  Lion  fell !  " 


XI. 

"  No  one  failed  him  !     He  is  keeping 

Eoyal  state  and  semblance  still ; 
Knight  and  noble  lie  around  him, 

Cold  on  Flodden's  fatal  hill. 
Of  the  brave  and  gallant-hearted, 

Whom  ye  sent  with  prayers  away, 
Not  a  single  man  departed 

From  his  monarch  yesterday. 
Had  you  seen  them,  0  my  masters  ! 

When  the  night  began  to  fall, 
And  the  English  spearmen  gathered 

Eound  a  grim  and  ghastly  wall ! 
As  the  wolves  in  winter  circle 

Eound  the  leaguer  on  the  heath, 
So  the  greedy  foe  glared  upward, 

Panting  still  for  blood  and  death. 
But  a  rampart  rose  before  them, 

Which  the  boldest  dared  not  scale 
Every  stone  a  Scottish  body, 

Every  step  a  corpse  in  mail ! 
And  behind  it  lay  our  monarch 

Clenching  still  his  shivered  sword  : 


24  EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN 

By  his  side  Montrose  and  Athole, 

At  his  feet  a  southern  lord. 
All  so  tliick  they  lay  together, 

When  the  stars  lit  up  the  sky, 
That  I  knew  not  who  were  stricken, 

Or  who  yet  remained  to  die, 
Few  there  were  when  Surrey  halted, 

And  his  wearied  host  withdrew ; 
None  but  dying  men  around  me, 

When  the  English  trumpet  blew. 
Then  I  stooped,  and  took  the  banner. 

As  ye  see  it,  from  his  breast. 
And  I  closed  our  hero's  eyelids. 

And  I  left  liim  to  his  rest. 
In  the  mountains  growled  the  thunder. 

As  I  leaped  the  woeful  wall, 
And  the  heavy  clouds  were  settling 

Over  Flodden,  like  a  pall." 


XII. 

So  he  ended.     And  the  others 

Cared  not  any  answer  then  ; 
Sitting  silent,  dumb  with  sorrow. 

Sitting  anguish-struck,  like  men 
Who  have  seen  the  roaring  torrent 

Sweep  their  happy  homes  away, 
And  yet  linger  by  the  margin, 

Staring  idly  on  the  spray. 


EDINBURGH   AFTER   FLODDEN  25 

But,  without,  the  maddenino;  tumult 

Waxes  ever  more  and  more. 
And  the  crowd  of  wailing  women 

Gather  round  the  Council  door. 
Every  dusky  spire  is  ringing 

With  a  dull  and  hollow  knell. 
And  the  Miserere 's  singing 

To  the  tolling  of  the  bell. 
Through  the  streets  the  burghers  hurry. 

Spreading  terror  as  they  go  ; 
And  the  rampart 's  thronged  with  watchers 

For  the  coming  of  the  foe. 
From  each  mountain-top  a  pillar 

Streams  into  the  torpid  air, 
Bearing  token  from  the  Border 

That  the  English  host  is  there. 
All  without  is  flight  and  terror, 

All  within  is  woe  and  fear — 
God  protect  thee,  Maiden  City, 

For  thy  latest  hour  is  near  ! 

XIII. 

No  !  not  yet,  thou  high  Dunedin  ! 

Shalt  thou  totter  to  thy  fall ; 
Though  thy  bravest  and  thy  strongest 

Are  not  there  to  man  the  wall. 
No,  not  yet !  the  ancient  spirit 

Of  our  fathers  hath  not  gone ; 


26  EDINBURGH   AFTER   FLODDEN 

Take  it  to  thee  as  a  buckler 

Better  far  than  steel  or  stone. 
Oh,  remember  those  who  perished 

For  thy  birthright  at  the  time 
When  to  be  a  Scot  was  treason, 

And  to  side  with  Wallace,  crime ! 
Have  they  not  a  voice  among  us, 

Whilst  their  hallowed  dust  is  here  ? 
Hear  ye  not  a  summons  sounding 

From  each  buried  warrior's  bier  ? 
"  Up ! " — they  say — "  and  keep  the  freedom 

Which  we  won  you  long  ago  : 
Up  !  and  keep  our  graves  unsullied 

From  the  insults  of  the  foe  ! 
Up  !  and  if  ye  cannot  save  them, 

Come  to  us  in  blood  and  fire : 
Midst  the  crash  of  falling  turrets. 

Let  the  last  of  Scots  expire  ! " 

XIV. 

Still  the  bells  are  tolling  fiercely, 

And  the  cry  comes  louder  in ; 
Mothers  wailing  for  their  children, 

Sisters  for  their  slaughtered  kin. 
All  is  terror  and  disorder. 

Till  the  Provost  rises  up, 
Calm,  as  though  he  had  not  tasted 

Of  the  fell  and  bitter  cup. 
All  so  stately  from  his  sorrow, 

Kose  the  old  undaunted  Chief, 


EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN  27 

That  you  had  not  deemed,  to  see  hun, 

His  was  more  than  common  grief. 
"  Rouse  ye,  Sirs ! "  he  said  ;  "  we  may  not 

Longer  mourn  for  what  is  done : 
If  our  King  be  taken  from  us, 

We  are  left  to  guard  his  son. 
We  have  sworn  to  keep  the  city 

From  the  foe,  whate'er  they  be, 
And  the  oath  that  we  have  taken 

Never  shall  be  broke  by  me. 
Death  is  nearer  to  us,  brethren. 

Than  it  seemed  to  those  who  died, 
Fighting  yesterday  at  Flodden, 

By  their  lord  and  master's  side. 
Let  us  meet  it  then  in  patience, 

Not  in  terror  or  in  fear ; 
Though  our  hearts  are  bleeding  yonder. 

Let  our  souls  be  steadfast  here. 
Up,  and  rouse  ye !     Time  is  fleeting. 

And  we  yet  have  much  to  do ; 
Up !  and  haste  ye  through  the  city. 

Stir  the  burghers  stout  and  true ! 
Gather  all  our  scattered  people. 

Fling  the  banner  out  once  more, — 
Eandolph  Murray  !  do  thou  bear  it. 

As  it  erst  was  borne  before : 
Never  Scottish  heart  will  leave  it, 

When  they  see  their  monarch's  gore ! 


28  EDINBURGH   AFTER   FLODDEN 


XV. 

"  Let  them  cease  that  dismal  knellin2 ! 

It  is  time  enough  to  ring, 
When  the  fortress-strength  of  Scotland 

Stoops  to  ruin  like  its  King. 
Let  the  bells  be  kept  for  warning, 

Not  for  terror  or  alarm ; 
When  they  next  are  heard  to  thunder, 

Let  each  man  and  stripling  arm. 
Bid  the  women  leave  their  wailincr, — 

Do  they  think  that  woeful  strain, 
From  the  bloody  heaps  of  Flodden 

Can  redeem  their  dearest  slain  ? 
Bid  them  cease, — or  rather  hasten 

To  the  churches,  every  one ; 
There  to  pray  to  Mary  Mother, 

And  to  her  anointed  Son, 
That  the  thunderbolt  above  us 

May  not  fall  in  ruin  yet ; 
That  in  fire,  and  blood,  and  rapine, 

Scotland's  glory  may  not  set. 
Let  them  pray, — for  never  women 

Stood  in  need  of  such  a  prayer ! 
England's  yeomen  shall  not  find  them 

Clinging  to  the  altars  there. 

No !  if  we  are  doomed  to  perish, 

Man  and  maiden,  let  us  fall ; 


EDINBURGH   AFTER    FLODDEN  29 

And  a  common  gulf  of  ruin 

Open  wide  to  whelm  us  all ! 
Never  shall  the  ruthless  spoiler 

Lay  his  hot  insulting  hand 
On  the  sisters  of  our  heroes, 

Whilst  we  bear  a  torch  or  brand ! 
Up !  and  rouse  ye,  then,  my  brothers, 

But  when  next  ye  hear  the  bell 
Sounding  forth  the  sullen  summons 

That  may  be  our  funeral  knell, 
Once  more  let  us  meet  together, 

Once  more  see  each  other's  face ; 
Then,  like  men  that  need  not  tremble, 

Go  to  our  appointed  place. 
God,  our  Father,  will  not  fail  us 

In  that  last  tremendous  hour, — 
If  all  other  bulwarks  crumble. 

He  will  be  our  strength  and  tower : 
Though  the  ramparts  rock  beneath  us. 

And  the  walls  go  crashing  down, 
Though  the  roar  of  conflagration 

Bellow  o'er  the  sinking  town  ; 
There  is  yet  one  place  of  shelter. 

Where  the  foeman  cannot  come, 
Where  the  summons  never  sounded 

Of  the  trumpet  or  the  drum. 
There  again  we  11  meet  our  children. 

Who,  on  Flodden's  trampled  sod, 
For  their  king  and  for  their  country 

Rendered  up  their  souls  to  God. 


30  EDINBURGH   AFTER   FLODDEN 

There  shall  we  find  rest  and  refuge, 
With  our  dear  departed  brave ; 

And  the  ashes  of  the  city 
Be  our  universal  grave  !  " 


THE  EXECUTION  OF  MONTROSE 

The  most  poetical  chronicler  would  find  it  impossible 
to  render  the  incidents  of  Montrose's  brilliant  career 
more  picturesque  than  the  reality.  Among  the  devoted 
champions  who,  during  the  wildest  and  most  stormy 
period  of  our  history,  maintained  the  cause  of  Church 
and  King,  "  the  Great  Marquis "  undoubtedly  is  en- 
titled to  the  foremost  place.  Even  party  malevolence, 
by  no  means  extinct  at  the  present  day,  has  been 
unable  to  detract  from  the  eulogy  pronounced  upon 
him  by  the  famous  Cardinal  de  Eetz,  the  friend  of 
Conde  and  Turenne,  when  he  thus  sunnued  up  his 
character : — "  Montrose,  a  Scottish  nobleman,  head  of 
the  house  of  Grahame — the  only  man  in  the  world 
that  has  ever  realised  to  me  the  ideas  of  certain  heroes, 
whom  we  now  discover  nowhere  but  in  the  Lives  of 
Plutarch — has  sustained  in  his  own  country  the  cause 
of  the  King  his  master,  with  a  greatness  of  soul  that 
has  not  found  its  equal  in  our  age." 

But  the  success  of  the  victorious  leader  and  patriot 
is  almost  thrown  into  the  shade  by  the  noble  mag- 
nanimity and  Christian  heroism  of  the  man  in  the 
hour  of   defeat  and  death.     Without  wishing,  in  any 


32  THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE 

degree,  to  revive  a  controversy  long  maintained  by 
writers  of  opposite  political  and  polemical  opinions, 
it  may  fairly  be  stated  that  Scottish  history  does 
not  present  us  with  a  tragedy  of  parallel  interest. 
That  the  execution  of  Montrose  was  the  natural, 
nay,  the  inevitable,  consequence  of  his  capture,  may 
be  freely  admitted  even  by  the  fiercest  partisan  of 
the  cause  for  which  he  staked  his  life.  In  those 
times,  neither  party  was  disposed  to  lenity ;  and 
Montrose  was  far  too  conspicuous  a  character,  and 
too  dangerous  a  man,  to  be  forgiven.  But  the  igno- 
minious and  savage  treatment  which  he  received  at 
the  hands  of  those  whose  station  and  descent  should 
at  least  have  taught  them  to  respect  misfortune,  has 
left  an  indelible  stain  upon  the  memory  of  the 
Covenanting  chiefs,  and  more  especially  upon  that 
of  Argyle, 

The  perfect  serenity  of  the  man  in  the  hour  of 
trial  and  death,  the  courage  and  magnanimity  which 
he  displayed  to  the  last,  have  been  dwelt  upon  with 
admiration  by  writers  of  every  class.  He  heard  his 
sentence  delivered  without  any  apparent  emotion, 
and  afterwards  told  the  magistrates  who  waited  upon 
him  in  prison,  "that  he  was  much  indebted  to  the 
Parliament  for  the  great  honour  they  had  decreed 
him " ;  adding,  "  that  he  was  prouder  to  have  his 
head  placed  upon  the  top  of  the  prison,  than  if  they 
had  decreed  a  golden  statue  to  be  erected  to  him 
in  the  market-place,  or  that  his  picture  should  be 
hung    in    the    King's    bedchamber."      He    said,   "he 


THE   EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE  33 

thanked  them  for  their  care  to  preserve  the  remem- 
brance of  his  loyalty,  by  transmitting  such  monuments 
to  the  different  parts  of  the  kingdom ;  and  only 
wished  that  he  had  flesh  enough  to  have  sent  a 
piece  to  every  city  in  Christendom,  as  a  token  of  his 
unshaken  love  and  fidelity  to  his  king  and  country." 
On  the  night  before  his  execution,  he  inscribed  the 
following  lines  with  a  diamond  on  the  window  of 
his  jail: — 

"  Let  them  bestow  on  every  airtli  a  limb, 
Then  open  all  my  veins,  that  I  may  swim 
To  thee,  my  Maker  !  in  that  crimson  lake  ; 
Then  place  my  parboiled  head  upon  a  stake — 
Scatter  my  ashes — strew  them  in  the  air  : 
Lord  !  since  thou  know'st  where  all  these  atoms  are, 
I  'ni  hopeful  thou  'It  recover  once  my  dust, 
And  contident  thou  'It  raise  me  with  the  just." 

After  the  Eestoration,  the  dust  was  recovered,  the 
scattered  remnants  collected,  and  the  bones  of  the 
hero  conveyed  to  their  final  resting-place  by  a 
numerous  assemblage  of  gentlemen  of  his  family  and 
name. 

There  is  no  ingredient  of  fiction  in  the  historical 
incidents  recorded  in  the  following  ballad.  The 
indignities  that  were  heaped  upon  Montrose  during 
his  procession  through  Edinburgh,  his  appearance 
before  the  Estates,  and  his  last  passage  to  the  scaffold, 
as  well  as  his  undaunted  bearing,  have  all  been  spoken 
to  by  eyewitnesses  of  the  scene.  A  graphic  and  vivid 
sketch    of    the   whole  will    be    found    in    Mr.  Mark 

c 


34  THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE 

Napier's  volume,  The  Life  aiid  Times  of  Montrose — 
a  work  as  chivalrous  in  its  toue  as  the  Chronicles 
of  Froissart,  and  abounding  in  original  and  most  in- 
teresting materials  ;  but,  in  order  to  satisfy  all  scruple, 
the  authorities  for  each  fact  are  given  in  the  shape  of 
notes.  The  Imllad  may  be  considered  as  a  narrative 
of  the  transactions,  related  by  an  aged  Highlander, 
who  had  followed  Montrose  throughout  his  campaigns, 
to  his  grandson,  shortly  before  the  battle  of  Killie- 
crankie. 


THE  EXECUTION  OF  MONTROSE 


Come  hither,  Evan  Cameron ! 

Come,  stand  beside  my  knee — 
I  hear  the  river  roaring  down 

Towards  the  wintry  sea. 
There 's  shouting  on  the  mountain  side, 

There 's  war  within  the  blast — 
Old  faces  look  upon  me, 

Old  forms  go  trooping  past. 
I  hear  the  pibroch  wailing 

Amidst  the  din  of  fight, 
And  my  dim  spirit  wakes  again 

Upon  the  verge  of  night ! 

II. 

'T  was  I  that  led  the  Highland  host 
Through  wild  Lochaber's  snows, 

What  time  the  plaided  clans  came  down 
To  battle  wifeh  Montrose. 

I  've  told  thee  how  the  Southrons  fell 
Beneath  the  broad  claymore, 


36  THE    EXECUTION   OF   MONTROSE 

And  how  we  smote  the  Campbell  clan 

By  Inverlochy's  shore. 
I've  told  thee  how  we  swept  Dundee, 

And  tamed  the  Lmdsay's  pride ; 
But  never  have  I  told  thee  yet 

How  the  Great  Marquis  died ! 

III. 

A  traitor  sold  him  to  his  foes ; 

0  deed  of  deathless  shame  ! 
I  charge  thee,  boy,  if  e'er  thou  meet 

With  one  of  Assynt's  name — 
Be  it  upon  the  mountain's  side, 

Or  yet  within  the  glen, 
Stand  he  in  martial  gear  alone, 

Or  backed  bv  armed  men — 
Face  him,  as  thou  wouldst  face  the  man 

Who  wronged  thy  sire's  renown  ; 
Remember  of  what  blood  thou  art, 

And  strike  the  caitiff  down  ! 

IV. 

They  brought  him  to  the  Watergate, 

Hard  bound  with  hempen  span. 
As  though  they  held  a  lion  there, 

And  not  a  'fenceless  man. 
They  set  him  high  upon  a  cart — 

The  hangman  rode  below — 
They  drew  his  hands  behind  his  back, 

And  bared  his  noble  brow. 


THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE  37 

Then,  as  a  hound  is  slipped  from  leash, 

They  cheered  the  common  throng, 
And  blew  the  note  with  yell  and  shout, 

And  bade  him  pass  along. 

V. 

It  would  have  made  a  brave  man's  heart 

Grow  sad  and  sick  that  day, 
To  watch  the  keen  malignant  eyes 

Bent  down  on  that  array. 
There  stood  the  Whig  west-country  lords 

In  balcony  and  bow, 
There  sat  their  gaunt  and  withered  dames. 

And  their  daughters  all  a-row ; 
And  every  open  window 

Was  full  as  full  might  be, 
With  black-robed  Covenanting  carles, 

That  goodly  sport  to  see ! 

VI. 

But  when  he  came,  though  pale  and  wan. 

He  looked  so  great  and  high. 
So  noble  was  his  manly  front, 

So  calm  his  steadfast  eye ; — 
The  rabble  rout  forebore  to  shout. 

And  each  man  held  his  breath, 
For  well  they  knew  the  hero's  soul 

Was  face  to  face  with  death. 


38  THE   EXECUTION   OF   MONTROSE 

And  then  a  mournful  shudder 
Through  all  the  people  crept, 

And  some  that  came  to  scoff  at  him, 
Now  turn'd  aside  and  wept. 


VII. 

But  onwards — always  onwards, 

In  silence  and  in  gloom, 
The  dreary  pageant  laboured, 

Till  it  reach'd  the  house  of  doom : 
Then  first  a  woman's  voice  was  heard 

In  jeer  and  laughter  loud, 
And  an  angry  cry  and  a  hiss  arose 

From  the  heart  of  the  tossing  crowd  : 
Then,  as  the  Grseme  looked  upwards, 

He  met  the  ugly  smile 
Of  him  who  sold  his  King  for  gold — 

The  master-fiend  Argyle ! 

VIII. 

The  Marquis  gazed  a  moment, 

And  nothing  did  he  say. 
But  the  cheek  of  Argyle  grew  ghastly  pale, 

And  he  turned  his  eyes  away. 
The  painted  harlot  by  his  side. 

She  shook  through  every  limb, 
For  a  roar  like  thunder  swept  the  street. 

And  hands  were  clenched  at  bun, 


THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE  39 

And  a  Saxon  soldier  cried  aloud, 

"  Back,  coward,  from  thy  place ! 
For  seven  long  years  thou  hast  not  dared 

To  look  him  in  the  face." 


IX. 

Had  I  been  there  with  sword  in  hand, 

And  fifty  Camerons  by, 
That  day  througli  high  Dunedin's  streets. 

Had  pealed  the  slogan  cry. 
Not  all  their  troops  of  trampling  horse, 

Nor  might  of  mailed  men — 
Not  all  the  rebels  of  the  south 

Had  borne  us  backwards  then  ! 
Once  more  his  foot  on  Highland  heath 

Had  trod  as  free  as  air, 
Or  I,  and  all  who  bore  my  name, 

Been  laid  around  him  there ! 


X. 

It  might  not  be.     They  placed  him  next 

Within  the  solemn  hall, 
Where  once  the  Scottish  Kings  were  throned 

Amidst  their  nobles  all. 
But  there  was  dust  of  vulgar  feet 

On  that  polluted  floor, 
And  perjured  traitors  filled  the  place 

Where  good  men  sate  before. 


40  THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE 

With  savage  glee  came  Warristoun 
To  read  the  murderous  doom. 

And  then  uprose  the  great  Montrose 
In  the  middle  of  the  room. 


XI. 

"  Now  by  my  faith  as  belted  knight, 

And  by  the  name  I  bear. 
And  by  the  bright  Saint  Andrew's  cross 

That  waves  above  us  there — 
Yea,  by  a  greater,  mightier  oath — 

And  oh,  that  such  should  be ! — 
By  that  dark  stream  of  royal  blood 

That  lies  'twixt  you  and  me — 
I  have  not  sought  in  battle-field 

A  wreath  of  such  renown, 
Nor  dared  I  hope,  on  my  dying  day, 

To  win  the  martyr's  crown  ! 


XII. 

"There  is  a  chamber  far  away 

Where  sleep  the  good  and  brave. 
But  a  better  place  ye  have  named  for  me 

Than  by  my  father's  grave. 
For  truth  and  right,  'gainst  treason's  might, 

This  hand  hath  always  striven, 
And  ye  raise  it  up  for  a  witness  still 

In  the  eye  of  earth  and  heaven. 


THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE  41 

Then  nail  my  head  on  yonder  tower — 

Give  every  town  a  linih — 
And  God  who  made  shall  gather  them : 

I  go  from  you  to  Him ! " 


XIII. 

The  morning  dawned  full  darkly, 

The  rain  came  flashing  down, 
And  the  jagged  streak  of  the  levin-holt 

Lit  up  the  gloomy  town : 
The  heavens  were  thundering  out  their  wrath, 

The  fatal  hour  was  come  ; 
Yet  ever  sounded  sullenly 

The  trumpet  and  the  drum. 
There  was  madness  on  the  earth  below, 

And  anger  in  the  sky. 
And  young  and  old,  and  rich  and  poor. 

Came  forth  to  see  him  die. 


XIV. 

Ah,  God  !  that  ghastly  gibbet ! 

How  dismal  't  is  to  see 
The  great  tall  spectral  skeleton, 

The  ladder,  and  the  tree ! 
Hark  !  hark  !  it  is  the  clash  of  arms- 

The  bells  begin  to  toll — 
He  is  coming  !  he  is  coming  ! 

God's  mercy  on  his  soul ! 


42  THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE 

One  last  long  peal  of  thunder — 

The  clouds  are  cleared  away, 
And  the  glorious  sun  once  more  looks  down 

Amidst  the  dazzling  day. 


XV. 

He  is  coming  !  he  is  coming  ! 

Like  a  bridegroom  from  his  room, 
Came  the  hero  from  his  prison 

To  the  scaffold  and  the  doom. 
There  was  glory  on  his  forehead, 

There  was  lustre  in  his  eye, 
And  he  never  walked  to  battle 

More  proudly  than  to  die : 
There  was  colour  in  his  visage. 

Though  the  cheeks  of  all  were  wan. 
And  they  marvelled  as  they  saw  him  pass, 

That  great  and  goodly  man ! 


XVI. 

He  mounted  up  the  scaffold. 

And  he  turned  him  to  the  crowd ; 

But  they  dared  not  trust  the  people, 
So  he  might  not  speak  aloud. 

But  he  looked  upon  the  heavens, 
And  they  were  clear  and  blue, 


THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE  45 

And  in  the  liquid  ether 

The  eye  of  God  shone  through  : 
Yet  a  black  and  murky  battlement 

Lay  resting  on  the  hill, 
As  though  the  thunder  slept  within — 

All  else  was  calm  and  still. 


XVII. 

The  grim  Geneva  ministers 

With  anxious  scowl  drew  near, 
As  you  have  seen  the  ravens  flock 

Around  the  dying  deer. 
He  would  not  deign  them  word  nor  sign, 

But  alone  he  bent  the  knee  ; 
And  veiled  his  face  for  Christ's  dear  grace 

Beneath  the  gallows-tree. 
Then  radiant  and  serene  he  rose, 

And  cast  his  cloak  away : 
For  he  had  ta'en  his  latest  look 

Of  earth,  and  sun,  and  day. 


XVIII. 

A  beam  of  light  fell  o'er  him, 
Like  a  glory  round  the  shriven, 

And  he  climbed  the  lofty  ladder 
As  it  were  tlie  path  to  heaven. 


44  THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE 

Then  came  a  Hasli  from  out  the  cloud, 

And  a  stunning  thunder  roll, 
And  no  man  dared  to  look  aloft, 

For  fear  was  on  every  soul. 
There  was  another  heavy  sound, 

A  hush  and  then  a  groan ; 
And  darkness  swept  across  the  sky — 

The  work  of  death  was  done  ! 


NOTES   TO 
"THE  EXECUTION  OF  MONTROSE" 

"A  traitor  sold  Mm  to  his  foes," — p.  36. 

"Thk  contemporary  historian  of  the  Earls  of  Sutherland 
records,  that  (after  the  defeat  of  Invercarron)  Montrose  and 
Kinnoul  '  wandered  up  the  river  Kyle  the  whole  ensuing 
night,  and  the  next  day,  and  the  third  day  also,  without 
any  food  or  sustenance,  and  at  last  came  within  the  country 
of  Assynt.  The  Earl  of  Kinnoul,  being  faint  for  lack  of 
meat,  and  not  able  to  travel  any  further,  was  left  there 
among  the  mountains,  where  it  was  supposed  he  perished. 
Montrose  had  almost  famished,  but  that  he  fortuned  in 
his  misery  to  light  upon  a  small  cottage  in  that  wilderness, 
where  he  was  supplied  -with  some  milk  and  bread.'  Not 
even  the  iron  frame  of  Montrose  could  endure  a  prolonged 
existence  under  such  circumstances.  He  gave  himself  up 
to  Macleod  of  Assynt,  a  former  adherent,  from  whom  he 
had  reason  to  expect  assistance  in  consideration  of  that 
circumstance,  and,  indeed,  from  the  dictates  of  honourable 
feeling  and  common  humanity.  As  the  Argyle  faction 
had  sold  the  King,  so  this  Highlander  rendered  his  own 
name  infamous  by  selling  the  hero  to  the  Covenanters,  for 
which  'duty  to  the  public'  he  was  rewarded  with  four 
hundred  bolls  of  meal." — Napier's  Life  of  Montros&. 


46  THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE 


"  Tliey  hnmght  Mm  to  the  Watergate,'^ — p.  36, 

"Friday,  \lth  May. — Act  ordaining  James  Grahame  to 
be  brought  from  the  Watergate  on  a  cart,  bareheaded,  the 
hangman  in  his  livery,  covered,  riding  on  the  horse  that 
draws  the  cart^the  prisoner  to  be  bound  to  the  cart  with 
a  rope — to  the  Tolbooth  of  Edinburgh,  and  from  thence 
to  be  brought  to  the  Parliament  House,  and  there,  in  the 
place  of  delinquents,  on  his  knees,  to  receive  his  sentence — 
viz.,  to  be  hanged  on  a  gibbet  at  the  Cross  of  Edinburgh, 
with  his  book  and  declaration  tied  on  a  rope  about  his 
neck,  and  there  to  hang  for  the  space  of  three  hours  until 
he  be  dead ;  and  thereafter  to  be  cut  down  by  the  hangman, 
his  head,  hands,  and  legs  to  be  cut  off,  and  distributed 
as  follows — viz.,  his  head  to  be  affixed  on  an  iron  pin, 
and  set  on  the  pinnacle  of  the  west  gavel  of  the  new 
prison  of  Edinburgh  ;  one  hand  to  be  set  on  the  port  of 
Perth,  the  other  on  the  j^ort  of  Stirling ;  one  leg  and  foot 
on  the  port  of  Aberdeen,  the  other  on  the  port  of  Glasgow. 
If  at  his  death  penitent,  and  relaxed  from  excommunication, 
then  the  trunk  of  his  body  to  be  interred,  by  pioneers,  in 
the  Greyfriars;  otherwise,  to  be  interred  in  the  Boroughmuir, 
by  the  hangman's  men,  under  the  gallows." — Balfour's 
Notes  of  Parliament. 

It  is  needless  to  remark  that  this  inhuman  sentence  was 
executed  to  the  letter.  In  order  that  the  exposure  might 
be  more  complete,  the  cart  was  constructed  with  a  high 
chair  in  the  centre,  having  holes  behind,  through  which 
the  ropes  that  fastened  him  were  drawn.  The  author  of 
the  Wigton  Papera,  recently  published  by  the  Maitland 
Club,  says,  "The  reason  of  his  being  tied  to  the  cart  was 
in  hope  that  the  people  would  have  stoned  him,  and  that 


THE    EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE  47 

he  might  not  be  able  by  his  hands  to  save  his  face."  His 
hat  was  then  pulled  off  by  the  hangman  and  the  procession 
commenced. 

"  But  ichen  he  came,  though  pale  and  ivan, 
He  looked  so  great  and  high,'^ — p.  37. 

"In  all  the  way,  there  appeared  in  him  such  majesty, 
courage,  modesty — and  even  somewhat  more  than  natural — 
that  those  common  women  who  had  lost  their  husbands  and 
children  in  his  wars,  and  who  were  hired  to  stone  him, 
were  upon  the  sight  of  him  so  astonished  and  moved,  that 
their  intended  curses  turned  into  tears  and  prayers ;  so  that 
next  day  all  the  ministers  preached  against  them  for  not 
stoning  and  reviling  him." — Wigton  Papej's. 

"  Then  first  a  zvoman^s  voice  zoas  heard 
In  jeer  and  laughter  loud," — p.  38. 

"  It  is  remarkable  that,  of  the  many  thousand  beholders, 
the  Lady  Jean  Gordon,  Countess  of  Haddington,  did 
(alone)  publicly  insult  and  laugh  at  him ;  which  being 
perceived  by  a  gentleman  in  the  street,  he  cried  up  to 
her,  that  it  became  her  better  to  sit  upon  the  cart  for 
her  adulteries." — Wigton  Papers.  This  infamous  woman 
was  the  third  daughter  of  Huntly,  and  the  niece  of  Argyle. 
It  will  hardly  be  credited  that  she  was  the  sister  of  that 
gallant  Lord  Gordon,  who  fell  fighting  by  the  side  of 
Montrose,  only  five  years  before,  at  the  battle  of  Aldford  ! 

^^  For  seven  long  years  thou  hast  not  dared 
To  looh  him  in  the  face," — p,  39. 

"  The  Lord  Lorn  and  his  new  lady  were  also  sitting  on  a 
balcony,  joyful  spectators ;  and  the  cart  being  stopped  when 
it  came  before  the  lodging  where  the  Chancellor,  Argyle, 


48  THE    EXECUTION    OF   MONTROSE 

and  Warristoun  sat — that  they  might  have  time  to  insult — 
he,  suspecting  the  business,  turned  his  face  towards  them, 
whereupon  they  presently  crept  in  at  the  windows ;  which 
being  perceived  by  an  Englishman,  he  cried  up,  it  was  no 
wonder  they  started  aside  at  his  look,  for  they  durst  not 
look  him  in  the  face  these  seven  years  bygone." 

—  Wigton  Papers. 

"  With  savage  glee  came  Warristoun, 
To  read  the  murderoics  doom," — p.  40. 

Archibald  Johnston  of  Warristoun.  This  man,  who  was 
the  inveterate  enemy  of  Montrose,  and  who  carried  the 
most  selfish  spirit  into  every  intrigue  of  his  party,  received 
the  punishment  of  his  treasons  about  eleven  years  after- 
wards. It  may  be  instructive  to  learn  how  he  met  his 
doom.  The  following  extract  is  from  the  MSS.  of  Sir 
George  Mackenzie  : — "  The  Chancellor  and  others  Avaited  to 
examine  him ;  he  fell  upon  his  face,  roaring,  and  with  tears 
entreated  they  would  pity  a  poor  creature  who  had  forgot 
all  that  was  in  the  Bible.  This  moved  all  the  spectators 
with  a  deep  melancholy ;  and  the  Chancellor,  reflecting 
upon  the  man's  great  parts,  former  esteem,  and  the  great 
share  he  had  in  all  the  late  revolutions,  could  not  deny 
some  tears  to  the  frailty  of  silly  mankind.  At  his  exami- 
nation, he  pretended  he  had  lost  so  much  blood  by  the 
unskilfulness  of  his  chirurgeons,  that  he  lost  his  memory 
with  his  blood ;  and  I  really  believe  that'  his  courage 
had  been  drawn  out  with  it.  Within  a  few  days  he 
was  brought  before  the  parliament,  where  he  discovered 
nothing  but  much  weakness,  running  up  and  down  upon  his 
knees,  begging  mercy ;  but  the  parliament  ordained  his 
former  sentence  to  be  put  to  execution,  and  accordingly  he 
was  executed  at  the  Cross  of  Edinburgh." 


THE   EXECUTION    OF    MONTROSE  49 

"  And  God  ivho  made  shall  gather  them  : 
I  go  from  ^jou  to  Him!" — p.  41. 

"He  said  he  was  much  beholden  to  the  parliament  for 
the  honour  they  had  put  on  him  ;  '  for,'  says  he,  '  I  think  it 
ft  greater  honour  to  have  my  head  standing  on  the  port  of 
this  town,  for  this  quarrel,  than  to  have  my  picture  in  the 
king's  bedchamber,  I  am  beholden  to  you  that,  lest  my 
loyalty  should  be  forgotten,  ye  have  appointed  five  of  your 
most  eminent  towns  to  bear  witness  of  it  to  posterity.' " 

—  Wigton  Papers. 

"  He  is  coming  !  lie  is  coining  ! 

Like  a  bridegroom  from  Ms  room^'' — p.  42. 

"In  his  downgoing  from  the  Tolbooth  to  the  place  of 
execution,  he  was  very  richly  clad  in  fine  scarlet,  laid  over 
with  rich  silver  lace,  his  hat  in  his  hand,  his  bands  and 
cuifs  exceeding  rich,  his  delicate  white  gloves  on  his  hands, 
his  stockings  of  incarnate  silk,  and  his  shoes  with  their 
ribbands  on  his  feet;  and  sarks  provided  for  him  with 
pearling  about,  above  ten  pund  the  elne.  All  these  were 
provided  for  him  by  his  friends,  and  a  pretty  cassock  put  on 
upon  him,  upon  the  scaifold,  wherein  he  was  hanged.  To 
be  short,  nothing  was  here  deficient  to  honour  his  poor 
carcase,  more  beseeming  a  bridegroom  than  a  criminal  going 
to  the  gallows." — Nicholl's  Diary. 

"  The  grim  Geneva  ministers 

With  anxious  scowl  drew  near" — p.  43. 

The  Presbyterian  ministers  beset  Montrose  both  in  prison 
and  on  the  scaff"old.  The  following  extracts  are  from  the 
diary  of   the  Rev.  Robert  Traill,  one  of  the  persons  who 

D 


50  THE    EXECUTION    OF   MONTROSE 

were  appointed  by  the  commission  of  the  kirk  "to  deal  with 
him : " — "  By  a  warrant  from  the  kirk,  we  staid  a  while 
with  him  about  his  soul's  condition.  But  we  found  him 
continuing  in  his  old  pride,  and  taking  very  ill  what  was 
spoken  to  him,  saying,  '  I  pray  you,  gentlemen,  let  me  die 
in  peace.'  It  was  answered,  that  he  might  die  in  true 
peace,  being  reconciled  to  the  Lord  and  to  His  kirk." — "We 
returned  to  the  commission,  and  did  show  unto  them  what 
had  passed  amongst  us.  They,  seeing  that  for  the  present 
he  was  not  desiring  relaxation  from  his  censure  of  excom- 
munication, did  appoint  Mr.  Mungo  Law  and  me  to  attend 
on  the  morrow  on  the  scaffold,  at  the  time  of  his  execution, 
that,  in  case  he  should  desire  to  be  relaxed  from  his 
excommunication,  we  should  be  allowed  to  give  it  unto  him 
in  the  name  of  the  kirk,  and  to  pray  with  him,  and  for 
him,  that  tvhat  is  loosed  on  earth  might  he  loosed  in  heaven.'^ 
But  this  pious  intention,  which  may  appear  somewhat 
strange  to  the  modern  Calvinist,  when  the  prevailing 
theories  of  the  kirk  regarding  the  efficacy  of  absolution 
are  considered,  was  not  destined  to  be  fulfilled.  Mr.  Traill 
goes  on  to  say,  "  But  he  did  not  at  all  desire  to  be  relaxed 
from  his  excommunication  in  the  name  of  the  kirk,  yea,  did 
not  look  towards  that  place  on  the  scaffold  where  we  stood  ; 
only  he  drew  apart  some  of  the  magistrates,  and  spake  a 
while  with  them,  and  then  went  up  the  ladder,  in  his  red 
scarlet  cassock,  in  a  very  stately  manner." 

"  And  he  climbed  the  lofty  ladder 

As  it  were  the  path  to  heaven^'' — p.  43. 

"  He  was  very  earnest  that  he  might  have  the  liberty  to 
keep  on  his  hat ;  it  was  denied  :  he  requested  he  might 
have  the  privilege  to  keep  his  cloak  about  him — neither 


THE    EXECUTION    OF   MONTROSE  51 

could  that  be  granted.  Then,  with  a  most  undaunted 
courage,  he  went  up  to  the  top  of  that  prodigious  gibbet." 
— "The  whole  people  gave  a  general  groan  ;  and  it  was  very- 
observable,  that  even  those  who,  at  his  first  appearance,  had 
bitterly  inveighed  against  him,  could  not  now  abstain  from 
tears. " — Montrose  Redivivus. 


THE   HEART   OF   THE   BRUCE 

Hector  Boece,  in  his  very  delightful,  though  some- 
what apocryphal  Chronicles  of  Scotland,  tells  us,  that 
"  quhen  Schir  James  Dowglas  was  cliosin  as  maist 
worthy  of  all  Scotland  to  pass  with  King  Eohertis 
hart  to  the  Holy  Land,  he  put  it  in  ane  cais  of  gold, 
with  arromitike  and  precious  unyementis ;  and  tuke 
with  him  Schir  William  Sinclare  and  Schir  Piobert 
Logan,  with  mony  othir  nobilmen,  to  the  haly  graif; 
quhare  he  buryit  the  said  hart,  with  maist  reverence 
and  solempnitie  that  could  be  devisit." 

But  no  contemporary  historian  bears  out  the  state- 
ment of  the  old  canon  of  Aberdeen.  Froissart,  Fordun, 
and  Barbour  all  agree  that  the  devotional  pilgrimage 
of  the  Good  Sir  James  was  not  destined  to  be  accom- 
plished, and  that  the  heart  of  Scotland's  greatest  king 
and  hero  was  brought  back  to  the  land  of  his  nativity. 
Mr.  Tytler,  in  few  words,  has  so  graphically  recounted 
the  leading  events  of  this  expedition,  that  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  adopt  his  narrative  : — 

"As  soon  as  the  season  of  the  year  permitted, 
Douglas,  liaving  the  heart  of  his  beloved  master  under 
his  charge,  set  sail  from  Scotland,  accompanied  by  a 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE      53 

splendid  retinue,  and  anchored  off  Slays  in  Flanders, 
at  this  time  the  great  seaport  of  the  Netherlands. 
His  object  was  to  find  out  companions  with  whom  he 
might  travel  to  Jerusalem ;  but  he  declined  landing, 
and  for  twelve  days  received  all  visitors  on  board  his 
ship  with  a  state  almost  kingly. 

"  At  Sluys  he  heard  that  Alonzo,  the  King  of  Leon 
and  Castile,  was  carrying  on  war  with  Osmyn,  the 
Moorish  governor  of  Grenada.  The  religious  mission 
which  he  had  embraced,  and  the  vows  he  had  taken 
before  leaving  Scotland,  induced  Douglas  to  consider 
Alonzo's  cause  as  a  holy  warfare ;  and,  before  proceed- 
ing to  Jerusalem,  he  first  determined  to  visit  Spain, 
and  to  signalise  his  prowess  against  the  Saracens.  But 
his  first  field  against  the  Infidels  proved  fatal  to  him 
who,  in  the  long  English  war,  had  seen  seventy 
battles.  The  circumstances  of  his  death  were  striking 
and  characteristic.  In  an  action  near  Theba,  on  the 
borders  of  Andalusia,  the  Moorish  cavalry  were  de- 
feated ;  and,  after  their  camp  had  been  taken,  Douglas, 
with  his  companions,  engaged  too  eagerly  in  the 
pursuit,  and,  being  separated  from  the  main  body  of 
the  Spanish  army,  a  strong  division  of  the  Moors 
rallied  and  surrounded  them.  The  Scottish  knight 
endeavoured  to  cut  his  way  through  the  Infidels,  and 
in  all  probability  would  have  succeeded,  had  he  not 
again  turned  to  rescue  Sir  William  Saint  Clair  of 
Eoslin,  whom  he  saw  in  jeopardy.  In  attempting 
this,  he  was  inextricably  involved  with  the  enemy. 
Taking  from  his  neck  the  casket  which  contained  the 


54      THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE 

heart  of  Bruce,  he  cast  it  before  him,  and  exclaimed 
with  a  loud  voice,  '  Now  pass  onward  as  thou  wert 
w^ont,  and  Douglas  will  follow  thee  or  die!'  The 
action  and  the  sentiment  were  heroic,  and  they  were 
the  last  words  and  deed  of  a  heroic  life,  for  Douglas 
fell,  overpowered  by  his  enemies;  and  three  of  his 
knights,  and  many  of  his  companions,  were  slain  along 
with  their  master.  On  the  succeeding  day,  the  body 
and  the  casket  were  both  found  on  the  field,  and  by 
his  survl\dng  friends  conveyed  to  Scotland.  The  heart 
of  Bruce  was  deposited  at  Melrose,  and  the  body  of 
the  'Good  Sir  James' — the  name  by  which  he  is 
affectionately  remembered  by  his  countrymen — was 
consigned  to  the  cemetery  of  his  fathers  in  the  parish 
church   of  Douglas." 

A  nobler  death  on  the  field  of  battle  is  not  recorded 
in  the  annals  of  chivalry.  In  memory  of  this  ex- 
pedition, the  Douglases  have  ever  since  carried  the 
armorial  bearings  of  the  Bloody  Heart  surmounted  by 
the  Crown;  and  a  similar  distinction  is  borne  by 
another  family.  Sir  Simon  of  Lee,  a  distinguished 
companion  of  Douglas,  was  the  person  on  whom,  after 
the  fall  of  his  leader,  the  custody  of  the  heart  de- 
volved. Hence  the  name  of  Lockhart,  and  their  effigy, 
the  Heart  within  a  Fetterlock. 


THE   HEART   OF   THE   BRUCE 


It  was  upon  an  April  morn, 
While  yet  the  frost  lay  hoar, 

We  heard  Lord  James's  bugle-horn 
Sound  by  the  rocky  shore. 

Then  down  we  went,  a  hundred  knights, 

All  in  our  dark  array. 
And  flung  our  armour  in  the  ships 

That  rode  within  the  bay. 

We  spoke  not  as  the  shore  grew  less, 

But  gazed  in  silence  back. 
Where  the  long  billows  swept  away 

The  foam  behind  our  track. 

And  aye  the  purple  hues  decay'd 

Upon  the  fading  hill, 
And  but  one  heart  in  all  that  ship 

Was  tranquil,  cold,  and  still. 


56      THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE 

The  good  Lord  Douglas  walk'd  the  deck, 

And  oh,  his  brow  was  wan  ! 
Unlike  the  flush  it  used  to  wear 

When  in  the  battle  van. — 

"  Come  hither,  come  hither,  my  trusty  knight, 
Sir  Simon  of  the  Lee ; 
There  is  a  freit  lies  near  my  soul 
I  fain  would  tell  to  thee. 

"  Thou  know'st  the  words  King  Eobert  spoke 
Upon  his  dying  day, 
How  he  bade  me  take  his  noble  heart 
And  carry  it  far  away  ; 

"  And  lay  it  in  the  holy  soil 

Where  once  the  Saviour  trod, 
Since  he  might  not  bear  the  blessed  Cross, 
Nor  strike  one  blow  for  God. 

"  Last  night  as  in  my  bed  I  lay, 
I  dream'd  a  dreary  dream : — 
Methought  I  saw  a  Pilgrim  stand 
In  the  moonlight's  quivering  beam. 

"  His  robe  was  of  the  azure  dye, 
Snow-white  his  scatter'd  hairs. 
And  even  such  a  cross  he  bore 
As  good  Saint  Andrew  bears. 


THE    HEART   OF   THE    BRUCE  57 

" '  Why  go  you  forth,  Lord  James/  he  said, 
'  With  spear  and  belted  brand  ? 
Why  do  you  take  its  dearest  pledge 
From  this  our  Scottish  land  ? 


" '  The  sultry  breeze  of  Galilee 

Creeps  through  its  groves  of  palm, 
The  olives  on  the  Holy  Mount 
Stand  glittering  in  the  calm. 

" '  But  't  is  not  there  that  Scotland's  heart 
Shall  rest  by  God's  decree. 
Till  the  great  angel  calls  the  dead 
To  rise  from  earth  and  sea ! 

"  '  Lord  James  of  Douglas,  mark  my  rede  ! 
That  heart  shall  pass  once  more 
In  fiery  fight  against  the  foe, 
As  it  was  vi'ont  of  yore. 

" '  And  it  shall  pass  beneath  the  Cross, 
And  save  King  Eobert's  vow, 
But  other  hands  shall  bear  it  back, 
Not,  James  of  Douglas,  thou  ! ' 

"  Now,  by  thy  knightly  faith,  I  pray. 
Sir  Simon  of  the  Lee — 
For  truer  friend  had  never  man 
Than  thou  hast  been  to  me — 


58      THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE 

"  If  ne'er  upon  the  Holy  Land 
'Tis  mine  in  life  to  tread, 
Bear  thou  to  Scotland's  kindly  earth 
The  relics  of  her  dead." 

The  tear  was  in  Sir  Simon's  eye 
As  he  wrung  the  warrior's  hand — 

"  Betide  me  weal,  betide  me  woe, 
I  '11  hold  by  thy  command. 

"  But  if  in  battle  front.  Lord  James, 
'T  is  ours  once  more  to  ride, 
No  force  of  man,  nor  craft  of  fiend, 
Shall  cleave  me  from  thy  side  !  " 

And  aye  we  sail'd,  and  aye  we  sail'd, 

Across  the  weary  sea. 
Until  one  morn  the  coast  of  Spain 

Eose  grimly  on  our  lee. 

And  as  we  rounded  to  the  port. 
Beneath  the  watch-tower's  wall. 

We  heard  the  clash  of  the  atabals, 
And  the  trumpet's  wavering  call. 

"  Why  sounds  yon  Eastern  music  here 
So  wantonly  and  long, 
And  whose  the  crowd  of  armM  men 
That  round  yon  standard  throng  ?  " 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE      59 

"  The  Moors  have  come  from  Africa 
To  spoil  and  waste  and  slay, 
And  King  Alonzo  of  Castile 
Must  light  with  them  to-day." 

"  Now  shame  it  were,"  cried  good  Lord  James, 
"  Shall  never  be  said  of  me, 
That  I  and  mine  have  turn'd  aside, 
Trom  the  Cross  in  jeopardie  ! 

"  Have  down,  have  down,  my  merry  men  all — 
Have  down  unto  the  plain ; 
We  '11  let  the  Scottish  lion  loose 
Within  the  fields  of  Spain  ! " 

"  Now  welcome  to  me,  noble  lord. 
Thou  and  thy  stalwart  power  ; 
Dear  is  the  sight  of  a  Christian  knight 
Who  comes  in  such  an  hour ! 

"Is  it  for  bond  or  faith  ye  come, 
Or  yet  for  golden  fee  ? 
Or  bring  ye  France's  lilies  here. 
Or  the  flower  of  Burgundie  ? " 

"  God  greet  thee  well,  thou  valiant  King, 
Thee  and  thy  belted  peers — 
Sir  James  of  Douglas  am  I  called. 
And  these  are  Scottish  spears. 


6o      THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE 

"  We  do  not  fight  for  bond  or  plight, 
Nor  yet  for  golden  fee  ; 
But  for  the  sake  of  our  blessed  Lord, 
Who  died  upon  the  tree. 

"  We  bring  our  great  King  Eobert's  heart 
Across  the  weltering  wave, 
To  lay  it  in  the  holy  soil 

Hard  by  the  Saviour's  grave. 

"  True  pilgrims  we,  by  land  or  sea, 
Where  danger  bars  the  way ; 
And  therefore  are  we  here,  Lord  King, 
To  ride  with  thee  this  day  ! " 

The  King  has  bent  his  stately  head, 
And  the  tears  were  in  his  eyne — 

"  God's  blessing  on  thee,  noble  knight, 
For  tliis  brave  thought  of  thine  ! 


^o^ 


"  I  know  thy  name  full  well,  Lord  James, 
And  honour'd  may  I  be, 
That  those  who  fought  beside  the  Bruce 
Should  fight  this  day  for  me ! 

"  Take  thou  the  leading  of  the  van. 
And  charge  the  Moors  amain ; 
There  is  not  such  a  lance  as  thine 
In  all  the  host  of  Spain  ! " 


THE    HEART   OF   THE   BRUCE  6i 

The  Douglas  turned  towards  us  then, 
0  but  his  glance  was  high  ! — 
"  There  is  not  one  of  all  my  men 
But  is  as  bold  as  I. 

"  There  is  not  one  of  all  my  knights 
But  bears  as  true  a  spe»ar — 
Then  onwards  !  Scottish  gentlemen, 
And  think — King  Eobert  's  here  ! " 

The  trumpets  blew,  the  cross-bolts  flew, 

The  arrows  flashed  like  flame, 
As  spur  in  side,  and  spear  in  rest, 

Against  the  foe  we  came. 

And  many  a  bearded  Saracen 

Went  down,  both  horse  and  man ; 
For  through  their  ranks  we  rode  like  corn. 

So  furiously  we  ran  ! 

But  in  behind  our  path  they  closed, 

Though  fain  to  let  us  through, 
For  they  were  forty  thousand  men, 

And  we  were  wondrous  few. 

We  might  not  see  a  lance's  length. 

So  dense  was  their  array. 
But  the  long  fell  sweep  of  the  Scottish  blade 

Still  held  them  hard  at  bay. 


THE    HEART    OF   THE   BRUCE 

"  Make  in  !  make  in  ! "  Lord  Douglas  cried, 
"  Make  in,  my  brethren  dear ! 
Sir  William  of  Saint  Clair  is  down ; 
We  may  not  leave  him  here  ! " 

But  thicker,  thicker,  grew  the  swarm, 

And  sharper  shot  the  rain. 
And  the  horses  reared  amid  the  press, 

But  they  would  not  charge  again. 

"  Now  Jesu  help  thee,"  said  Lord  James, 
"  Thou  kind  and  true  St  Clair ! 
An'  if  I  may  not  bring  thee  off, 
I  '11  die  beside  thee  there  ! " 

Then  in  his  stirrups  up  he  stood, 

So  lionlike  and  bold. 
And  held  the  precious  heart  aloft 

All  in  its  case  of  gold. 

He  flung  it  from  him,  far  ahead, 

And  never  spake  he  more, 
But — "  Pass  thee  first,  thou  dauntless  heart. 

As  thou  wert  wont  of  yore  ! " 

The  roar  of  fight  rose  fiercer  yet, 

And  heavier  still  the  stour, 
Till  the  spears  of  Spain  came  shivering  in. 

And  swept  away  the  Moor. 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE      63 

"  Now  praised  be  God,  the  day  is  won  I 
They  fly  o'er  flood  and  fell  — 
Why  dost  thou  draw  the  rein  so  hard, 
Good  knight,  that  fought  so  well  ? " 

"  Oh,  ride  ye  on.  Lord  King  ! "  he  said, 
"  And  leave  the  dead  to  me. 
For  I  must  keep  the  dreariest  watch 
That  ever  I  shall  dree  ! 

"  There  lies,  beside  his  master's  heart, 
The  Douglas,  stark  and  grim ; 
And  woe  is  me  I  should  be  here, 
Not  side  by  side  with  him  ! 

"  The  world  grows  cold,  my  arm  is  old. 
And  thin  my  lyart  hair, 
And  all  that  I  loved  best  on  earth 
Is  stretch'd  before  me  there. 

"  0  Bothwell  banks  !  that  bloom  so  bright. 
Beneath  the  eun  of  May, 
The  heaviest  cloud  that  ever  blew 
Is  bound  for  you  this  day. 

"  And,  Scotland,  thou  may'st  veil  thy  head 
In  sorrow  and  in  pain  ; 
The  sorest  stroke  upon  thy  brow 
Hath  fallen  this  day  in  Spain ! 


6+      THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE 

"  We  '11  hear  them  hack  unto  our  ship, 
We  '11  bear  them  o'er  the  sea, 
And  lay  them  in  the  hallowed  earth, 
Within  our  own  countrie. 


"  And  be  thou  strong  of  heart,  Lord  King, 
For  this  I  tell  thee  sure, 
The  sod  that  drank  the  Douglas'  blood 
Shall  never  bear  the  Moor  !" 

The  King  he  lighted  from  his  horse, 

He  flung  his  brand  away. 
And  took  the  Douglas  by  the  hand, 

So  stately  as  he  lay. 

"  God  give  thee  rest,  thou  valiant  soul, 
That  fought  so  well  for  Spain ; 
I  'd  rather  half  my  land  were  gone, 
So  thou  wert  here  again ! " 

We  bore  the  good  Lord  James  away, 
And  the  priceless  heart  he  bore. 

And  heavily  we  steer'd  our  ship 
Towards  the  Scottish  shore. 

No  welcome  greeted  our  return, 

Nor  clang  of  martial  tread. 
But  all  were  dumb  and  hushed  as  death 

Before  the  mighty  dead. 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  BRUCE      65 

We  laid  our  chief  in  Douglas  Kirk, 

The  heart  in  fair  Melrose  ; 
And  woeful  men  were  we  that  day — 

God  grant  their  souls  repose  ! 


E 


THE  BURIAL  MARCH  OF  DUNDEE 


It  is  very  much  to  be  regretted  that  no  competent 
person  has  as  yet  undertaken  the  task  of  compiling 
a  full  and  authentic  biography  of  Lord  Viscount 
Dundee,  His  memory  has  consequently  been  left  at 
the  mercy  of  misrepresentation  and  malignity ;  and 
the  pen  of  romance  has  been  freely  employed  to 
portray,  as  a  bloody  assassin,  one  of  the  most  accom- 
plished men  and  gallant  soldiers  of  his  age. 

It  was  the  misfortune  of  Claverhouse  to  have 
lived  in  so  troublous  an  age  and  country.  The 
religious  differences  of  Scotland  were  then  at  their 
greatest  height,  and  there  is  hardly  any  act  of 
atrocity  and  rebellion  which  had  not  been  committed 
by  the  insurgents.  The  royal  authority  was  openly 
and  publicly  disowned  in  the  western  districts:  the 
Archbishop  of  St.  Andrew's,  after  more  than  one 
hairbreadth  escape,  was  waylaid,  and  barbarously 
murdered  by  an  armed  gang  of  fanatics  on  Magus 
Muir ;  and  his  daughter  was  wounded  and  maltreated 
while  interceding  for  the  old  man's  life.  The  country 
was    infested   by   banditti,   who   took   every   possible 


THE   BURIAL   MARCH   OF   DUNDEE         67 

opportunity  of  shooting  down  and  massacring  any 
of  the  straggling  soldiery :  the  clergy  were  attacked 
and  driven  from  their  houses ;  so  that,  throughout 
a  considerable  portion  of  Scotland,  there  was  no 
security  either  for  property  or  for  life.  It  is  now 
the  fashion  to  praise  and  magnify  the  Covenanters 
as  the  most  innocent  and  persecuted  of  men ;  but 
those  who  are  so  ready  with  their  sympathy,  rarely 
take  the  pains  to  satisfy  themselves,  by  reference  to 
the  annals  of  the  time,  of  the  true  character  of 
those  men  whom  they  blindly  venerate  as  martyrs. 
They  forget,  in  their  zeal  for  religious  freedom,  that 
even  the  purest  and  holiest  of  causes  may  be  sullied 
and  disgraced  by  the  deeds  of  its  upholders,  and  that 
a  wild  and  frantic  profession  of  faith  is  not  always 
a  test  of  genuine  piety.  It  is  not  in  the  slightest 
degree  necessary  to  discuss  whether  the  royal  pre- 
rogative was  at  that  time  arbitrarily  used,  or  whether 
the  religious  freedom  of  the  nation  was  unduly  curtailed. 
Both  points  may  be,  and  indeed  are,  admitted, — for 
it  is  impossible  to  vindicate  the  policy  of  the 
measures  adopted  by  the  two  last  monarchs  of 
the  house  of  Stuart ;  but  neither  admission  will 
clear  the  Covenanters  from  the  stain  of  deliberate 
cruelty. 

After  the  battle  of  Philiphaugh,  the  royalist  prisoners 
were  butchered  in  cold  blood,  under  the  superintendence 
of  a  clerical  emissary,  who  stood  by  rubbing  his  hands, 
and  exclaiming — "  The  wark  gangs  bonnily  on  !"    Were 


68         THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE 

I  to  transcribe  from  the  pamphlets  before  me  the 
list  of  the  murders  which  were  perpetrated  by 
the  country  people  on  the  soldiery,  officers,  and 
gentlemen  of  loyal  principles,  during  the  reign  of 
Charles  IT.,  I  believe  that  no  candid  person  would  be 
surprised  at  the  severe  retaliation  which  was  made. 
It  must  be  remembered  that  the  country  was  then 
under  military  law,  and  that  the  strongest  orders  had 
been  issued  by  the  Government  to  the  officers  in 
command  of  the  troops,  to  use  every  means  in  their 
power  for  the  effectvial  repression  of  the  disturbances. 
The  necessity  of  such  orders  will  become  apparent, 
when  we  reflect  that,  besides  the  open  actions  at 
Aird's  Moss  and  Drumclog,  the  city  of  Glasgow  was 
attacked,  and  the  royal  forces  compelled  for  a  time 
to  fall  back  upon  Stirling. 

Under  such  circumstances  it  is  no  wonder  if  the 
soldiery  were  severe  in  their  reprisals.  Innocent 
blood  may  no  doubt  have  been  shed,  and  in  some 
cases  even  wantonly ;  for  when  rebellion  has  grown 
into  civil  war,  and  the  ordinary  course  of  the  law  is 
put  in  abeyance,  it  is  always  impossible  to  restrain 
military  license.  But  it  is  most  unfair  to  lay  the 
whole  odium  of  such  acts  upon  those  who  were  in 
command,  and  to  dishonour  the  fair  name  of  gentle- 
men, by  attributing  to  them  personally  the  commission 
of  deeds  of  which  they  were  absolutely  ignorant.  To 
this  day  the  peasantry  of  the  western  districts  of 
Scotland   entertain  the  idea  that  Claverhouse  was  a 


THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE         69 

sort  of  fiend  in  human  shape,  tall,  muscular,  and 
hideous  in  aspect,  secured  by  infernal  spells  from 
the  chance  of  perishing  by  any  ordinary  weapon,  and 
mounted  upon  a  huge  black  horse,  the  especial  gift 
of  Beelzebub !  On  this  charger  it  is  supposed  that 
he  could  ride  up  precipices  as  easily  as  he  could 
traverse  the  level  ground — that  he  was  constantly 
accompanied  by  a  body  of  desperadoes,  vulgarly  known 
by  such  euphonious  titles  as  "  Hell's  Tam,"  and  "  the 
De'il's  Jock,"  and  that  his  whole  time  was  occupied, 
day  and  night,  in  hunting  Covenanters  upon  the 
hills !  Almost  every  rebel  who  was  taken  in  arms 
and  shot,  is  supposed  to  have  met  his  death  from 
the  individual  pistol  of  Claverhouse ;  and  the  tales 
which,  from  time  to  time,  have  been  written  by 
such  ingenious  persons  as  the  late  Mr.  Gait  and 
the  Ettrick  Shepherd  have  quietly  been  assumed 
as  facts,  and  added  to  the  store  of  our  traditionary 
knowledge.  It  is  in  vain  to  hint  tliat  the  chief  com- 
manders of  the  forces  in  Scotland  could  have  found 
little  leisure,  even  had  they  possessed  the  taste,  for 
pursuing  single  insurgents.  Such  suggestions  are  an 
insult  to  martyrology ;  and  many  a  parish  of  the 
west  would  be  indignant  were  it  averred  that  the 
tenant  of  its  gray  stone  had  suffered  by  a  meaner 
hand. 

When  we  look  at  the  portrait  of  Claverhouse,  and 
survey  the  calm,  melancholy,  and  beautiful  features  of 
the  devoted  soldier,  it  appears  almost  inrredi))le  that 


70         THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE 

he  should  ever  have  suffered  under  such  an  overwhelm- 
ing load  of  misrepresentation.  But  when — discarding 
modern  historians,  who  in  too  many  instances  do  not 
seem  to  entertain  the  slightest  scruple  in  dealing  with 
the  memory  of  the  dead — we  turn  to  the  writings  of 
his  contemporaries  who  knew  the  man,  his  character 
appears  in  a  very  different  light.  They  describe  him 
as  one  who  was  stainless  in  his  honour,  pure  in  his 
faith,  wise  in  council,  resolute  in  action,  and  utterly 
free  from  that  selfishness  which  disgraced  the  Scottish 
statesmen  of  the  time.  No  one  dares  question  his 
loyalty,  for  he  sealed  that  confession  with  his  blood ; 
and  it  is  universally  admitted,  that  with  him  fell  the 
last  hopes  of  the  reinstatement  of  the  house  of 
Stuart. 

I  may  perhaps  be  permitted  here,  in  the  absence  of 
a  better  chronicler,  to  mention  a  few  particulars  of  his 
life,  which,  I  believe,  are  comparatively  unknown. 
John  Graham  of  Claverhouse  was  a  cadet  of  the  family 
of  Fintrie,  connected  by  intermarriage  with  the  blood- 
royal  of  Scotland.  After  completing  his  studies  at 
the  University  of  St.  Andrew's,  he  entered,  as  was 
the  national  custom  for  gentlemen  of  good  birth  and 
limited  means,  into  foreign  service,  served  some  time 
in  France  as  a  volunteer,  and  afterwards  went  to 
Holland.  He  very  soon  received  a  commission,  as  a 
cornet  in  a  regiment  of  horse-guards,  from  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  nephew  of  Charles  11.  and  James  VII., 
and  who  afterwards  married  the  Princess  Mary.     His 


THE   BURIAL   MARCH   OF   DUNDEE         71 

manner  at  that  time  is  thus  described : — "  He  was  then 
ane  esquire,  under  the  title  of  John  Graham  of  Claver- 
house ;  but  the  vivacity  of  his  parts,  and  the  delicacy 
and  justice  of  his  understanding  and  judgment,  joyned 
with  a  certain  vigour  of  mind  and  activity  of  body, 
distinguished  him  in  such  a  manner  from  all  others  of 
his  rank,  that  though  he  lived  in  a  superior  character, 
yet  he  acquired  the  love  and  esteem  of  all  his  equals, 
as  well  as  of  those  who  had  the  advantage  of  him  in 
dignity  and  estate." 

By  one  of  those  singular  accidents  which  we  occa- 
sionally meet  with  in  history,  Graham,  afterwards 
destined  to  become  his  most  formidable  opponent, 
saved  the  life  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  at  the  battle 
of  St.  Neff.  The  Prince's  horse  had  been  killed,  and 
he  himself  was  in  the  grasp  of  the  enemy,  when  the 
young  cornet  rode  to  his  rescue,  freed  him  from  his 
assailants,  and  mounted  him  on  his  own  steed.  For 
this  service  he  received  a  captain's  commission,  and 
the  promise  of  the  first  regiment  that  should  fall 
vacant. 

But  even  in  early  life  William  of  Orange  was  not 
famous  for  keeping  his  promises.  Some  years  after- 
wards, a  vacancy  in  one  of  the  Scottish  regiments  in 
the  Prince's  service  occurred,  and  Claverhouse,  relying 
upon  the  previous  assurance,  preferred  his  claim.  It 
was  disregarded,  and  Mr.  Collier,  afterwards  Earl  of 
Portmore,  was  appointed  over  his  head.  It  would 
seem  that  Graham  had  suspected  some  foul  play  on 


72         THE    BURIAL   MARCH   OF   DUNDEE 

the  part  of  this  gentleman,  for,  shortly  after,  they 
accidentally  met  and  had  an  angry  altercation.  This 
circumstance  having  come  to  the  ears  of  the  Prince, 
he  sent  for  Captain  Graham,  and  administered  a  sharp 
rebuke.  I  give  the  remainder  of  this  incident  in  the 
words  of  the  old  writer,  because  it  must  be  considered 
a  very  remarkable  one,  as  illustrating  the  fiery  spirit 
and  dauntless  independence  of  Claverhouse. 

"The  Captain  answered,  that  he  was  indeed  in  the 
wrong,  since  it  was  more  his  Highness's  business  to 
have  resented  that  quarrel  than  his ;  because  Mr. 
Collier  had  less  injured  him  in  disappointing  him  of  the 
regiment,  than  he  had  done  his  Highness  in  making 
him  break  his  word.  '  Then,'  replied  the  Prince  in  an 
angry  tone,  '  I  make  you  full  reparation,  for  I  bestow 
on  you  what  is  more  valuable  than  a  regiment  when  I 
give  you  your  right  arm ! '  The  Captain  subjoined, 
that  since  his  Highness  had  the  goodness  to  give  him 
his  liberty,  he  resolved  to  employ  himself  elsewhere, 
for  he  would  not  longer  serve  a  Prince  that  had  broken 
his  word. 

"  The  Captain,  having  thus  thrown  up  his  com- 
mission, was  preparing  in  haste  for  his  voyage,  when 
a  messenger  arrived  from  the  Prince,  with  two  hundred 
guineas  for  the  horse  on  which  lie  had  saved  his  life. 
The  Captain  sent  the  horse,  but  ordered  the  gold  to  be 
distributed  among  the  grooms  of  the  Prince's  stables. 
It  is  said,  however,  that  his  Highness  had  the  generosity 
to  write  to  the  King  and  the  Duke,  recommending  him 


THE   BURIAL   MARCH   OF   DUNDEE         73 

as  a  fine  gentleman  and  a  brave  officer,  fit  for  any 
office,  civil  or  military." 

On  his  arrival  in  Britain  he  was  well  received  by 
the  court,  and  immediately  appointed  to  a  high  military 
command  in  Scotland,  It  would  be  beyond  the  scope 
of  the  present  paper  to  enter  minutely  into  the  details 
of  his  service  during  the  stormy  period  when  Scotland 
was  certainly  misgoverned,  and  when  there  was  little 
unity,  but  much  disorder  in  the  land.  In  whatever 
point  of  view  we  regard  the  history  of  those  times, 
the  aspect  is  a  mournful  one  indeed.  Church  and 
State  never  was  a  popular  cry  in  Scotland,  and  the 
peculiar  religious  tendencies  which  had  been  exhibited 
by  a  large  portion  of  the  nation,  at  the  time  of  the 
Eeformation,  rendered  the  return  of  tranquillity  hope- 
less until  the  hierarchy  was  displaced,  and  a  humbler 
form  of  church  government,  more  suited  to  the  feelings 
of  the  people,  substituted  in  its  stead. 

Three  years  after  the  accession  of  James  VII. 
Claverhouse  was  raised  to  the  peerage,  by  the  title  of 
Lord  Viscount  Dundee.  He  was  major-general,  and 
second  in  command  of  the  royal  forces,  when  the 
Prince  of  Orange  landed,  and  earnestly  entreated  King 
James  to  be  allowed  to  march  against  him,  offering  to 
stake  his  head  on  the  successful  result  of  the  enter- 
prize.  There  is  little  doubt,  from  the  great  popularity 
of  Lord  Dundee  with  the  army,  that,  had  such  consent 
been  given,  William  would  have  found  more  than  a 
match  in  his  old  officer ;  but  the  King  seemed  absolutely 


74         THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE 

infatuated,  and  refused  to  allow  a  drop  of  blood  to  be 
shed  in  his  quarrel,  though  the  great  bulk  of  the 
population  of  England  were  clearly  and  enthusiastically 
in  his  favour.  One  of  the  most  gifted  of  our  modem 
poets,  the  Honourable  George  Sydney  Smythe,  has 
beautifully  illustrated  this  event. 

"  Then  out  spake  gallant  Claverliouse,  and  his  soul  thrilled  wild 

and  high, 
And  he  showed  the  King  his  subjects,  and  he  prayed  him  not 

to  fly. 
O  never  yet  was  captain  so  dauntless  as  Dundee  ! 
He  has  sworn  to  chase  the  Hollander  back  to  his  Zuyder-Zee." 

But  though  James  quitted  his  kingdom,  the  stern 
loyalty  of  Dundee  was  nothing  moved.  Alone,  and 
without  escort,  he  traversed  England,  and  presented 
himself  at  the  Convention  of  Estates,  then  assembled 
at  Edinburgh  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  the  message 
from  the  Prince  of  Orange.  The  meeting  was  a  very 
strange  one.  Many  of  the  nobility  and  former  mem- 
bers of  the  Scottish  Parliament  absolutely  declined 
attending  it,  some  on  the  ground  that  it  was  not  a 
legal  assembly,  having  been  summoned  by  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  and  others  because,  in  such  a  total  dis- 
ruption of  order,  they  judged  it  safest  to  abstain  from 
taking  any  prominent  part.  This  gave  an  immense 
ascendency  to  the  Revolution  party,  who  further  pro- 
ceeded to  strengthen  their  position  by  inviting  to 
Edinburgh  large  bodies  of  the  armed  population  of  the 
west.     After  defending  for  several  days  the  cause  of 


THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE         75 

his  master  with  as  much  eloquence  as  vigour,  Dundee, 
finding  that  the  majority  of  the  Convention  were 
resolved  to  offer  the  crown  of  Scotland  to  the  Prince, 
and  having  moreover  received  sure  information  that 
some  of  the  wild  fanatic  Whigs,  with  Daniel  Ker  of 
Kersland  at  their  head,  had  formed  a  plot  for  his 
assassination,  quitted  Edinburgh  with  about  fifty 
horsemen,  and,  after  a  short  interview — celebrated  by 
Sir  Walter  Scott  in  one  of  his  grandest  ballads — with 
the  Duke  of  Gordon  at  the  Castle  Eock,  directed  his 
steps  towards  the  north.  After  a  short  stay  at  his 
house  of  Duddope,  during  which  he  received,  by  order 
of  the  Council,  who  were  thoroughly  alarmed  at  his 
absence,  a  summons  through  a  Lyon  herald  to  return 
to  Edinburgh  under  pain  of  high  treason,  he  passed 
into  the  Gordon  country,  where  he  was  joined  by  the 
Earl  of  Dunfermline  with  a  small  party  of  about 
sixty  horse.  His  retreat  was  timeous,  for  General 
Mackay,  who  commanded  for  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
had  despatched  a  strong  force,  with  instructions  to 
make  him  prisoner.  From  this  time,  until  the  day  of 
his  death,  he  allowed  himself  no  repose.  Imitating 
the  example,  and  inheriting  the  enthusiasm  of  his 
great  predecessor  Montrose,  he  invoked  the  loyalty  of 
the  clans  to  assist  him  in  the  struggle  for  legitimacy 
—  and  he  did  not  appeal  to  them  in  vain.  His 
name  was  a  spell  to  rouse  the  ardent  spirits  of  the 
mountaineers ;  and  not  the  Great  Marquis  himself,  in 
the  height  of  his  renown,  was  more  sincerely  welcomed 


76         THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE 

and  more  fondly  loved  than  "  Ian  dhu  nan  Cath," 
— Dark  John  of  the  Battles, — the  name  by  which 
Lord  Dundee  is  still  remembered  in  Highland  song. 
In  the  mean  time  the  Convention,  terrified  at  their 
danger,  and  dreading  a  Highland  inroad,  had  despatched 
Mackay,  a  military  officer  of  great  experience,  with 
a  considerable  body  of  troops,  to  quell  the  threatened 
insurrection.  He  was  encountered  by  Dundee,  and 
compelled  to  evacuate  the  high  country  and  fall  back 
upon  the  Lowlands,  where  he  subsequently  received 
reinforcements,  and  again  marched  northward.  The 
Highland  host  was  assembled  at  Blair,  though  not  in 
great  force,  when  the  news  of  Mackay 's  advance 
arrived ;  and  a  council  of  the  chiefs  and  officers  was 
summoned,  to  determine  whether  it  would  be  most 
advisable  to  fall  back  upon  the  glens  and  wild  fast- 
nesses of  the  Highlands,  or  to  meet  the  enemy  at  once, 
though  with  a  force  far  inferior  to  his. 

Most  of  the  old  officers,  who  had  been  trained  in 
the  foreign  wars,  were  of  the  former  opinion — 
"alleging  that  it  was  neither  prudent  nor  cautious 
to  risk  an  engagement  against  an  army  of  disciplined 
men,  that  exceeded  theirs  in  numbers  by  more  than 
a  half."  But  both  Glengarry  and  Locheill,  to  the 
great  satisfaction  of  the  General,  maintained  the 
contrary  view,  and  argued  tliat  neither  hunger  nor 
fatigue  were  so  likely  to  depress  the  Highlanders,  as 
a  retreat  when  the  enemy  was  in  view.  The  account 
of  the  discussion  is  so  interesting,  and  so  characteristic 


THE   BURIAL   MARCH   OF   DUNDEE         77 

of    Dundee,   that    I    shall    take   leave    to   quote   its 
termination  in  the  words  of  Drummond  of  Balhaldy : 

"An  advice  so  hardy  and  resolute  could  not  miss 
to  please  the  generous  Dundee.  His  looks  seemed 
to  heighten  with  an  air  of  delight  and  satisfaction 
all  the  while  Locheill  was  speaking.  He  told  his 
council  that  they  had  heard  his  sentiments  from  the 
mouth  of  a  person  who  had  formed  his  judgment 
upon  infallible  proofs  drawn  from  a  long  experience, 
and  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  tlie  persons  and 
subject  he  spoke  of.  Not  one  in  the  company  offering 
to  contradict  their  general,  it  was  unanimously  agreed 
to  fight. 

"When  the  news  of  this  vigorous  resolution  spread 
through  the  army,  nothing  was  heard  but  acclama- 
tions of  joy,  which  exceedingly  pleased  their  gallant 
general;  but  before  the  council  broke  up,  Locheill 
begged  to  be  heard  for  a  few  words.  '  My  Lord,'  said 
he,  '  I  have  just  now  declared,  in  the  presence  of  this 
honourable  company,  that  I  was  resolved  to  give  an 
implicit  obedience  to  all  your  Lordship's  commands ; 
but  I  humbly  beg  leave,  in  name  of  these  gentlemen, 
to  give  the  word  of  command  for  this  one  time.  It 
is  the  voice  of  your  council,  and  their  orders  are, 
that  you  do  not  engage  personally.  Your  Lordship's 
business  is  to  have  an  eye  on  all  parts,  and  to  issue 
out  your  commands  as  you  shall  think  proper;  it  is 
ours  to  execute  them  with  promptitude  and  courage. 
On  your  Lordship  depends  the  fate,  not  only  of  this 


78         THE    BURIAL    MARCH   OF   DUNDEE 

little  brave  army,  but  also  of  our  king  and  country. 
If  your  Lordship  deny  us  this  reasonable  demand, 
for  my  own  part  I  declare,  that  neither  I,  nor  any  I 
am  concerned  in,  shall  draw  a  sword  on  this  important 
occasion,  whatever  construction  shall  be  put  upon  the 
matter.' 

"  Locheill  was  seconded  in  this  by  the  whole  council ; 
but  Dundee  begged  leave  to  be  heard  in  his  turn. 
'  Gentlemen,'  said  he,  '  as  I  am  absolutely  convinced, 
and  have  had  repeated  proofs,  of  your  zeal  for  the 
king's  service,  and  of  your  affection  to  me  as  his 
general  and  your  friend,  so  I  am  fully  sensible  that 
my  engaging  personally  this  day  may  be  of  some 
loss  if  I  shall  chance  to  be  killed.  But  I  beer  leave 
of  you,  however,  to  allow  me  to  give  one  shear-darg 
(that  is,  one  harvest-day's  work)  to  the  king,  my 
master,  that  I  may  have  an  opportunity  of  convincing 
the  brave  clans,  that  I  can  hazard  my  life  in  that 
service  as  freely  as  the  meanest  of  them.  Ye  know 
their  temper,  gentlemen ;  and  if  they  do  not  think 
I  have  personal  courage  enough,  they  will  not  esteem 
me  hereafter,  nor  obey  my  commands  with  cheer- 
fulness. Allow  me  this  single  favour,  and  I  here 
promise,  upon  my  honour',  never  again  to  risk  my 
person  while  I  have  that  of  commanding  you.' 

"The  council,  finding  him  inflexible,  broke  up,  and 
the  army  marched  directly  towards  the  Pass  of 
Killiecrankie." 

Those  who   have   visited    that   romantic  spot  need 


THE    BURIAL   MARCH    OF   DUNDEE         79 

not  be  reminded  of  its  peculiar  features,  for  these, 
once  seen,  must  dwell  for  ever  in  the  memory.  The 
lower  part  of  the  Pass  is  a  stupendous  mountain- 
chasm,  scooped  out  by  the  waters  of  the  Garry,  which 
here  descend  in  a  succession  of  roaring  cataracts  and 
pools.  The  old  road,  which  ran  almost  parallel  to 
the  river  and  close  upon  its  edge,  was  extremely 
narrow,  and  wound  its  way  beneath  a  wall  of  enormous 
crags,  surmounted  by  a  natural  forest  of  birch,  oak, 
and  pine.  An  army  cooped  up  in  that  gloomy  ravine 
would  have  as  little  chance  of  escape  from  the  onset 
of  an  enterprising  partisan  corps,  as  had  the  Bavarian 
troops  when  attacked  by  the  Tyrolese  in  the  steep 
defiles  of  the  Inn.  General  Mackay,  however,  had 
made  his  arrangements  with  consummate  tact  and 
skill,  and  had  calculated  his  time  so  well,  that  he 
was  enabled  to  clear  the  Pass  before  the  Highlanders 
could  reach  it  from  the  other  side.  Advancing  up- 
wards, the  passage  becomes  gradually  broader,  until, 
just  below  the  House  of  Urrard,  there  is  a  considerable 
width  of  meadow-land.  It  was  here  that  Mackay 
took  up  his  position,  and  arrayed  his  troops,  on 
observing  that  the  heights  above  were  occupied  by 
the  army  of  Dundee. 

The  forces  of  the  latter  scarcely  amounted  to  one- 
third  of  those  of  his  antagonist,  which  were  drawn 
up  in  line  without  any  reserve.  He  was  therefore 
compelled,  in  making  his  dispositions,  to  leave  con- 
siderable gaps  in  his  own  line,  which  gave  Mackay 


8o         THE    BURIAL   MARCH    OF   DUNDEE 

a  further  advantage.  The  right  of  Dundee's  army- 
was  formed  of  the  M'Lean,  Glengarry,  and  Clanranald 
regiments,  along  with  some  Irish  levies.  In  the  centre 
was  Dundee  himself,  at  the  head  of  a  small  and  ill- 
equipped  body  of  cavalry,  composed  of  Lowland 
gentlemen  and  their  followers,  and  about  forty  of 
his  old  troopers.  The  Camerons  and  Skyemen,  under 
the  command  of  Locheill  and  Sir  Donald  Macdonald 
of  Sleat,  were  stationed  on  the  left.  During  the  time 
occupied  by  these  dispositions,  a  brisk  cannonade  was 
opened  by  Mackay's  artillery,  which  materially  in- 
creased the  impatience  of  the  Highlanders  to  come 
to  close  quarters.  At  last  the  word  was  given  to 
advance,  and  the  whole  line  rushed  forward  with  the 
terrific  impetuosity  peculiar  to  a  charge  of  the  clans. 
They  received  the  fire  of  the  regular  troops  without 
flinching,  reserved  their  own  until  they  were  close  at 
hand,  poured  in  a  murderous  volley,  and  then,  throwing 
away  their  firelocks,  attacked  the  enemy  with  the 
broadsword. 

The  victory  was  almost  instantaneous,  but  it  was 
bought  at  a  terrible  price.  Through  some  mistake  or 
misunderstanding,  a  portion  of  the  cavalry,  instead  of 
following  their  general,  who  had  charged  directly  for 
the  guns,  executed  a  manoeuvre  which  threw  them 
into  disorder;  and,  when  last  seen  in  the  battle, 
Dundee,  accompanied  only  l)y  the  Earl  of  Dunfermline 
and  about  sixteen  gentlemen,  was  entering  into  the 
cloud    of    smoke,   standing    up   in    his   stirrups,   and 


THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE         8i 

waving  to  the  others  to  come  on.  It  was  in  this 
attitude  that  he  appears  to  have  received  his  death- 
wound.  On  returning  from  the  pursuit,  the  Highlanders 
found  him  dying  on  the  field. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  point  out  another  instance 
in  which  the  maintenance  of  a  great  cause  depended 
solely  upon  the  life  of  a  single  man.  Whilst  Dundee 
survived,  Scotland  at  least  was  not  lost  to  the  Stuarts, 
for,  sliortly  before  the  battle,  he  had  received  assur- 
ance that  the  greater  part  of  the  organised  troops  in 
the  north  were  devoted  to  his  person,  and  ready  to 
join  him ;  and  the  victory  of  Killiecrankie  would  have 
been  followed  by  a  general  rising  of  the  loyal  gentle- 
men in  the  Lowlands.  But  with  his  fall  the  enterprise 
was  over. 

I  hope  I  shall  not  be  accused  of  exaggerating  the 
importance  of  this  battle,  which,  according  to  the 
writer  I  have  already  quoted,  was  best  proved  by  the 
consternation  into  which  the  opposite  party  w^ere 
thrown  at  the  first  news  of  Mackay's  defeat.  "The 
Duke  of  Hamilton,  commissioner  for  the  parliament 
which  then  sat  at  Edinburgh,  and  the  rest  of  the 
ministry,  were  struck  with  such  a  panic,  that  some 
of  them  were  for  retiring  into  England,  others  into 
the  western  shires  of  Scotland,  where  all  the  people, 
almost  to  a  man,  befriended  them ;  nor  knew  they 
whether  to  abandon  the  government,  or  to  stay  a  few 
days  until  they  saw  what  use  my  Lord  Dundee  would 
make  of  his  victory.     They  knew  the  rapidity  of  his 

F 


82         THE   BURIAL   MARCH   OF   DUNDEE 

motions,  and  were  convinced  that  he  would  allow 
them  no  time  to  deliberate.  On  this  account  it  was 
debated,  whether  such  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  as 
were  confined  for  adhering  to  their  old  master,  should 
be  immediately  set  at  liberty  or  more  closely  shut 
up;  and  though  the  last  was  determined  on,  yet  the 
greatest  revolutionists  among  them  made  private  and 
frequent  visits  to  these  prisoners,  excusing  what  was 
past,  from  a  fatal  necessity  of  the  times,  which  obliged 
them  to  give  a  seeming  compliance,  but  protesting 
that  they  always  wished  well  to  King  James,  as  they 
should  soon  have  occasion  to  show  when  my  Lord 
Dundee  advanced." 

"The  next  morning  after  the  battle,"  says  Drum- 
mond,  "the  Highland  army  had  more  the  air  of  the 
shattered  remains  of  broken  troops  than  of  conquerors; 
for  here  it  was  literally  true  that 

'  The  vanquished  triumphed,  and  the  victors  mourned.' 

The  death  of  their  brave  general,  and  the  loss  of  so 
many  of  their  friends,  were  inexhaustible  fountains  of 
grief  and  sorrow.  They  closed  the  last  scene  of  this 
mournful  tragedy  in  obsequies  of  their  lamented 
general,  and  of  the  other  gentlemen  who  fell  with 
him,  and  interred  them  in  the  church  of  Blair  of 
Atholl  with  a  real  funeral  solemnity,  there  not  being 
present  one  single  person  who  did  not  participate  in 
the  general  affliction." 

I  close  this  notice  of  a  great  soldier  and  devoted 


THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE         83 

loyalist,  by  transcribing  the   beautiful  epitaph   com- 
posed by  Dr.  Pitcairii : — 

"  Ultime  Scotorum  !  potuit,  qno  sospite  solo, 

Libertas  patriae  salva  fiiisse  tua3 : 
Te  moriente,  novos  accepit  Scotia  cives, 

Accepitque  novos,  te  moriente,  deos. 
Ilia  nequit  superesse  tibi,  tu  non  potes  illi, 

Ergo  Caledonise  nonien  inane,  vale. 
Tuque  vale,  gentis  priscse  fortissime  ductor, 

Ultime  Scotorum,  ac  ultime  Grame,  vale  ! " 


THE    BURIAL   MARCH   OF   DUNDEE 


Sound  the  fife,  and  cry  the  slogan — 

Let  the  pibroch  shake  the  air 
With  its  wild  triumphal  music, 

Worthy  of  the  freight  we  bear. 
Let  the  ancient  hills  of  Scotland 

Hear  once  more  the  battle-song 
Swell  within  their  glens  and  valleys 

As  the  clansmen  march  along ! 
Never  from  the  field  of  combat, 

Never  from  the  deadly  fray, 
Was  a  nobler  trophy  carried 

Than  we  bring  with  us  to-day ; 
Never,  since  the  valiant  Douglas 

On  his  dauntless  bosom  bore 
Good  King  Eobert's  heart — the  priceless — 

To  our  dear  Kedeemer's  shore  ! 
Lo !  we  bring  with  us  the  hero — 

Lo  !  we  bring  the  conquering  Graeme, 
Crowned  as  best  beseems  a  victor 

From  the  altar  of  his  fame ; 


THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE         85 

Fresh  and  bleeding  from  the  battle 

Whence  his  spirit  took  its  flight, 
Midst  the  crashing  charge  of  squadrons, 

And  the  thunder  of  the  iight ! 
Strike,  I  say,  the  notes  of  triumph, 

As  we  march  o'er  moor  and  lea ! 
Is  there  any  here  will  venture 

To  bewail  our  dead  Dundee  ? 
Let  the  widows  of  the  traitors 

Weep  until  their  eyes  are  dim ! 
Wail  ye  may  full  well  for  Scotland  — 

Let  none  dare  to  mourn  for  him ! 
See  !  above  his  glorious  body 

Lies  the  royal  banner's  fold — 
See  !  his  valiant  blood  is  mingled 

With  its  crimson  and  its  gold. 
See !  how  calm  he  looks  and  stately. 

Like  a  warrior  on  his  shield, 
Waiting  till  the  flush  of  morning 

Breaks  along  the  battle-field  ! 
See — Oh  never  more,  my  comrades ! 

Shall  we  see  that  falcon  eye 
Eedden  with  its  inward  lightning, 
As  the  hour  of  fight  drew  nigh  ; 
Never  shall  we  hear  the  voice  that. 

Clearer  than  the  trumpet's  call, 
Bade  us  strike  for  King  and  Country, 
Bade  us  win  the  field  or  fall ! 


86         THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF   DUNDEE 

On  the  heights  of  Killiecrankie 

Yester-morn  our  army  lay : 
Slowly  rose  the  mist  in  columns 

From  the  river's  broken  way ; 
Hoarsely  roared  the  swollen  torrent, 

And  the  pass  was  wrapped  in  gloom, 
When  the  clansmen  rose  together 

From  their  lair  amidst  the  broom. 
Then  we  belted  on  our  tartans, 

And  our  bonnets  down  we  drew, 
And  we  felt  our  broadswords'  edges, 

And  we  proved  them  to  be  true ; 
And  we  prayed  the  prayer  of  soldiers, 

And  we  cried  the  gathering-cry. 
And  we  clasped  the  hands  of  kinsmen, 

And  we  swore  to  do  or  die  ! 
Then  our  leader  rode  before  us 

On  his  war-horse  black  as  night — 
Well  the  Cameronian  rebels 

Knew  that  charger  in  the  fight ! — 
And  a  cry  of  exultation 

From  the  bearded  warriors  rose ; 
For  we  loved  the  house  of  Claver'se, 

And  we  thought  of  good  Montrose. 
But  he  raised  his  hand  for  silence — 

"  Soldiers  !  I  have  sworn  a  vow  : 
Ere  the  evening-star  shall  glisten 

On  Schehallion's  lofty  brow. 
Either  we  shall  rest  in  triumph, 
Or  another  of  the  Graemes 


THE    BURIAL    MARCH    OF    DUNDEE         87 

Shall  have  died  in  battle-harness 

For  his  Country  and  King  James ! 
Think  upon  the  Royal  Martyr — 

Think  of  what  his  race  endure — 
Think  on  him  whom  butchers  murder'd 

On  the  field  of  Magus  Muir : — 
By  his  sacred  blood  I  charge  ye, 

By  the  ruin'd  hearth  and  shrine — 
By  the  blighted  hopes  of  Scotland, 

By  your  injuries  and  mine — 
Strike  this  day  as  if  the  anvil 

Lay  beneath  your  blows  the  while, 
Be  they  Covenanting  traitors, 

Or  the  brood  of  false  Argyle ! 
Strike  !  and  drive  the  trembling  rebels 

Backwards  o'er  the  stormy  Forth  ; 
Let  them  tell  their  pale  Convention 

How  they  fared  within  the  North. 
Let  them  tell  that  Highland  honour 

Is  not  to  be  bought  nor  sold, 
That  we  scorn  their  Prince's  anger, 

As  we  loathe  his  foreign  gold. 
Strike !  and  when  the  fight  is  over, 

If  ye  look  in  vain  for  me, 
Where  the  dead  are  lying  thickest. 

Search  for  him  that  was  Dundee  !  " 

Loudly  then  the  hills  re-echoed 

With  our  answer  to  his  call. 
But  a  deeper  echo  sounded 

In  the  bosoms  of  us  all. 


88         THE    BURIAL    MARCH   OF   DUNDEE 

For  the  lands  of  wide  Breadalbane, 
Not  a  man  who  heard  him  speak 
Would  tliat  day  have  left  tlie  battle. 

Burning  eye  and  flushing  cheek 
Told  the  clansmen's  fierce  emotion, 

And  they  harder  drew  their  breath ; 
For  their  souls  were  strong  within  them, 

Stronger  than  the  grasp  of  death. 
Soon  we  heard  a  challenge-trumpet 

Sounding  in  the  pass  below, 
And  the  distant  tramp  of  horses, 

And  the  voices  of  the  foe : 
Down  we  crouched  amid  the  bracken. 

Till  the  Lowland  ranks  drew  near. 
Panting  like  the  hounds  in  summer, 

When  they  scent  the  stately  deer. 
From  the  dark  defile  emergincj, 

Next  we  saw  the  squadrons  come, 
Leslie's  foot  and  Leven's  troopers 

Marching  to  the  tuck  of  drum ; 
Through  the  scattered  wood  of  birches. 

O'er  the  broken  ground  and  heath. 
Wound  the  long  battalion  slowly, 

Till  they  gained  the  field  beneath  ; 
Then  we  bounded  from  our  covert. — 

Judge  how  looked  the  Saxons  then. 
When  they  saw  the  rugged  mountain 

Start  to  life  with  armed  men ! 
Like  a  tempest  down  the  ridges, 
Swept  the  hurricane  of  steel. 


THE    BURIAL    MARCH   OF   DUNDEE         89 

Rose  the  slogan  of  Macdouakl — 

Flashed  tlie  broadsword  of  Locheill ! 
Vainly  sped  the  withering  volley 

'Mougst  the  foremost  of  our  band — 
On  we  poured  until  we  met  them, 

Foot  to  foot,  and  hand  to  hand. 
Horse  and  man  went  down  like  drift-wood 

When  the  floods  are  black  at  Yule, 
And  their  carcasses  are  whirling 

In  the  Garry's  deepest  pool. 
Horse  and  man  went  down  before  us — 

Living  foe  there  tarried  none 
On  the  field  of  Killiecrankie, 

When  that  stubborn  fight  was  done ! 

And  the  evening-star  was  shining 

On  Schehallion's  distant  head. 
When  we  wiped  our  bloody  broadswords. 

And  returned  to  count  the  dead. 
There  we  found  him,  gashed  and  gory, 

Stretch'd  upon  the  cumbered  plain, 
As  he  told  us  where  to  seek  him, 

In  the  thickest  of  the  slain. 
And  a  smile  was  on  his  visage, 

For  within  his  dying  ear 
Pealed  the  joyful  note  of  triumph. 

And  the  clansmen's  clamorous  cheer: 
So,  amidst  the  battle's  thunder, 

Shot,  and  steel,  and  scorching  flame, 
In  tlie  glory  of  his  manhood 

Passed  the  spirit  of  the  Gramme ! 


90         THE    BURIAL   MARCH    OF   DUNDEE 

Open  wide  the  vaults  of  Athol, 

Where  the  bones  of  heroes  rest — 
Open  wide  the  hallowed  portals 

To  receive  another  guest ! 
Last  of  Scots,  and  last  of  freemen — 

Last  of  all  that  dauntless  race 
Who  would  rather  die  unsullied 

Than  outlive  the  land's  disgrace ! 
0  thou  lion-hearted  warrior ! 

Keck  not  of  the  after- time : 
Honour  may  be  deemed  dishonour, 

Loyalty  be  called  a  crime. 
Sleep  in  peace  with  kindred  ashes 

Of  the  noble  and  the  true, 
Hands  that  never  failed  their  country. 

Hearts  that  never  baseness  knew. 
Sleep  !— and  till  the  latest  trumpet 

Wakes  the  dead  from  earth  and  sea, 
Scotland  shall  not  boast  a  braver 

Chieftain  than  our  own  Dundee  ! 


THE   WIDOW   OF   GLENCOE 


The  Massacre  of  Glencoe  is  an  event  which  neither 
can  nor  ought  to  be  forgotten.  It  was  a  deed  of  the 
worst  treason  and  cruelty — a  barbarous  infraction  of 
all  laws,  human  and  divine ;  and  it  exhibits  in  their 
foulest  perfidy  the  true  characters  of  the  authors  and 
abettors  of  the  Revolution. 

After  the  battle  of  Killiecrankie  the  cause  of  the 
Scottish  royalists  declined,  rather  from  the  want  of  a 
competent  leader  than  from  any  disinclination  on  the 
part  of  a  large  section  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  to 
vindicate  the  right  of  King  James.  No  person  of 
adequate  talents  or  authority  was  found  to  supply  the 
place  of  the  great  and  gallant  Lord  Dundee;  for 
General  Cannon,  who  succeeded  in  command,  was  not 
only  deficient  in  military  skill,  but  did  not  possess  the 
confidence,  nor  understand  the  character  of  the  High- 
land chiefs,  who,  with  their  clansmen,  constituted  by 
far  the  most  important  section  of  the  army.  Accord- 
ingly no  enterprise  of  any  importance  was  attempted ; 
and  the  disastrous  issue  of  the  battle  of  the  Boyne 
led  to  a  negotiation  which  terminated  in  the  entire 
disbanding  of  the  royal  forces.     By  this  treaty,  which 


92  THE    WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE 

was  expressly  sanctioned  by  William  of  Orange,  a  full 
and  unreserved  indemnity  and  pardon  was  granted  to 
all  of  the  Highlanders  who  had  taken  arms,  with  a 
proviso  that  they  should  first  subscribe  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  William  and  Mary,  before  the  1st  of 
January,  1692,  in  presence  of  the  Lords  of  the  Scottish 
Council,  "  or  of  the  Sheriffs  or  their  deputies  of  the 
respective  shires  wherein  they  lived."  The  letter  of 
William  addressed  to  the  Privy  Council,  and  ordering 
proclamation  to  be  made  to  the  above  effect,  contained 
also  the  following  significant  passage : — "  That  ye 
communicate  our  pleasure  to  the  Governor  of  Inver- 
lochy,  and  other  commanders,  that  they  be  exact  and 
diligent  in  their  several  posts ;  but  that  they  show  no 
more  zeal  against  the  Highlanders  after  their  sub- 
mission, than  they  have  ever  done  formerly  when  these 
vjerc  in  open  rehellion." 

This  enigmatical  sentence,  which  in  reality  was 
intended,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  to  be  inter]3reted  in 
the  most  cruel  manner,  appears  to  have  caused  some 
perplexity  in  the  Council,  as  that  body  deemed  it 
necessary  to  apply  for  more  distinct  and  specific  in- 
structions, which,  however,  were  not  then  issued.  It 
had  been  especially  stipulated  by  the  chiefs,  as  an  in- 
dispensable preliminary  to  their  treaty,  that  they  should 
have  leave  to  communicate  with  King  James,  then 
residing  at  St.  Germains,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
his  permission  and  warrant  previous  to  submitting 
themselves  to  the  existing  government.     That  article 


THE   WIDOW   OF    GLENCOE  93 

had  been  sanctioned  by  William  before  the  proclama- 
tion was  issued,  and  a  special  messenger  was  despatched 
to  France  for  that  purpose. 

In  the  mean  time,  troops  were  gradually  and  cau- 
tiously advanced  to  the  confines  of  the  Highlands,  and, 
in  some  instances,  actually  quartered  on  the  inhabitants. 
The  condition  of  the  country  was  perfectly  tranquil. 
No  disturbances  whatever  occurred  in  the  north  or 
west  of  Scotland;  Locheill  and  the  other  chiefs  were 
awaiting  the  communication  from  St.  Germains,  and 
held  themselves  bound  in  honour  to  remain  inactive ; 
whilst  the  remainder  of  the  royalist  forces  (for  whom 
separate  terms  had  been  made)  were  left  unmolested  at 
Dunkeld. 

But  rumours,  which  are  too  clearly  traceable  to  the 
emissaries  of  the  new  government,  asserting  the  pre- 
paration made  for  an  immediate  landing  of  King  James 
at  the  head  of  a  large  body  of  the  French,  were  in- 
dustriously circulated,  and  by  many  were  implicitly 
believed.  The  infamous  policy  which  dictated  such  a 
course  is  now  apparent.  The  term  of  the  amnesty  or 
truce  granted  by  the  proclamation  expired  with  the 
year  1691,  and  all  who  had  not  taken  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance before  that  term,  were  to  be  proceeded  against 
with  the  utmost  severity.  The  proclamation  was  issued 
upon  the  29th  of  August:  consequently,  only  four 
months  were  allowed  for  the  complete  submission  of 
the  Highlands. 

Not  one  of  the  chiefs  subscribed  until  the  mandate 


94  THE   WIDOW   OF    GLENCOE 

from  King  James  arrived.  That  document,  which  is 
dated  from  St.  Germaius  on  the  12th  of  December 
1691,  reached  Dunkeld  eleven  days  afterwards,  and, 
consequently,  but  a  very  short  tiaie  before  the  indem- 
nity expired.  The  bearer,  Major  Menzies,  was  so 
fatigued  that  he  could  proceed  no  farther  on  his 
journey,  but  forwarded  the  mandate  by  an  express 
to  the  commander  of  the  royal  forces,  who  was  then  at 
Glengarry.  It  was  therefore  impossible  that  the  docu- 
ment could  be  circulated  through  the  Highlands  within 
the  prescribed  period.  Locheill,  says  Drummond  of 
Balhaldy,  did  not  receive  his  copy  till  about  thirty 
hours  before  the  tune  was  out,  and  appeared  before  the 
sheriff  at  Inverara,  where  he  took  the  oaths  upon  the 
very  day  on  which  the  indemnity  expired. 

That  a  general  massacre  throughout  the  Highlands 
was  contemplated  by  the  Whig  government,  is  a  fact 
established  by  overwhelming  evidence.  In  the  course 
of  the  subsequent  investigation  before  the  Scots  Parlia- 
ment, letters  were  produced  from  Sir  John  Dalrymple, 
then  Master  of  Stair,  one  of  the  secretaries  of  state  in 
attendance  upon  the  court,  which  too  clearly  indicate 
the  intentions  of  Wilham.  In  one  of  these,  dated  1st 
December  1694, — a  month,  be  it  observed,  before  the 
amnesty  expired — and  addressed  to  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Hamilton,  there  are  the  following  words:  — "The 
winter  is  the  only  season  in  which  we  are  sure  the 
Highlanders  cannot  escape  us,  nor  carry  their  wives, 
bairns,  and  cattle  to  the  mountains."  And  in  another 
letter,  written  only  two  days  afterwards,  he  says, — 


THE   WIDOW   OF   GLENCOE  95 

"  It  is  the  only  time  that  they  cannot  escape  you,  for 
human  constitution  cannot  endure  to  be  long  out  of 
houses.  This  is  the  proper  season  to  maule  them,  in  the 
cold  long  nights."  And  in  January  thereafter,  he  in- 
formed Sir  Thomas  Livingston  that  the  design  was 
"  to  destroy  entirely  the  country  of  Lochaher,  Locheill's 
lands,  Keppoch's,  Glengarry's,  Appin,  and  Glencoe. 
I  assure  you,"  he  continues,  "your  power  shall  be  full 
enough,  aiid  I  hope  the  soldiers  ivill  not  trouble  the 
Government  with  prisoyiers." 

Locheill  was  more  fortunate  than  others  of  his  friends 
and  neighbours.  According  to  Drummond, — "  Major 
Menzies,  who,  upon  his  arrival,  had  observed  the  whole 
forces  of  the  kingdom  ready  to  invade  the  Highlands, 
as  he  wrote  to  General  Buchan,  foreseeing  the  unhappy 
consequences,  not  only  begged  that  general  to  send 
expresses  to  all  parts  with  orders  immediately  to 
submit,  but  also  wrote  to  Sir  Thomas  Livingston, 
praying  him  to  supplicate  the  Council  for  a  prorogation 
of  the  time,  in  regard  that  he  was  so  excessively 
fatigued,  that  he  was  obliged  to  stop  some  days  to 
repose  a  little ;  and  that  though  he  should  send  ex- 
presses, yet  it  was  impossible  they  could  reach  the 
distant  parts  in  such  time  as  to  allow  the  several 
persons  concerned  the  benefit  of  the  indemnity  within 
the  space  limited ;  besides,  that  some  persons  having 
put  the  Highlanders  in  a  bad  temper,  he  was  confident 
to  persuade  them  to  submit,  if  a  further  time  were 
allowed.  Sir  Thomas  presented  this  letter  to  the 
Council  on  the  5th  of  January,  1692,  but  they  refused 


96  THE   WIDOW   OF    GLENCOE 

to  give  any  answer,  and  ordered  him  to  transmit  the 
same  to  Court." 

The  reply  of  William  of  Orange  was  a  letter, 
countersigned  by  Dalrymple,  in  which,  upon  the  recital 
that  "  several  of  the  chieftains  and  many  of  their  clans 
had  not  taken  the  benefit  of  our  gracious  indemnity," 
he  gave  orders  for  a  general  massacre.  "  To  that  end, 
we  have  given  Sir  Thomas  Livingston  orders  to  employ 
our  troops  (which  we  have  already  conveniently  posted) 
to  cut  off  these  obstinate  rebels  hy  all  manner  of  hos- 
tility;  and  we  do  require  you  to  give  him  your 
assistance  and  concurrence  in  all  other  things  that  may 
conduce  to  that  service ;  and  because  these  rebels,  to 
avoid  our  forces,  may  draw  themselves,  their  families, 
goods,  or  cattle,  to  lurk  or  be  concealed  among  their 
neighbours :  therefore,  we  require  and  authorise  you 
to  emit  a  proclamation  to  be  published  at  the  market- 
crosses  of  these  or  the  adjacent  shires  where  the  rebels 
reside,  discharging  upon  the  highest  penalties  the  law 
allows,  any  reset,  correspondence,  or  intercomrauning 
with  these  rebels."  This  monstrous  mandate,  which 
was  in  fact  the  death-warrant  of  many  thousand  in- 
nocent people,  no  distinction  being  made  of  age  or  sex, 
would,  in  all  human  probability,  have  been  put  into 
execution,  but  for  the  remonstrance  of  one  high-minded 
nobleman.  Lord  Carmarthen,  afterwards  Duke  of 
Leeds,  accidentally  became  aware  of  the  proposed 
massacre,  and  personally  remonstrated  with  the  mon- 
arch against  a  measure  which  he  denounced  as  at  once 
cruel  and  impolitic.     After  much  discussion,  William, 


THE   WIDOW   OF   GLENCOE  97 

influenced  rather  by  an  apprehension  that  so  savage 
and  sweeping  an  act  might  prove  fatal  to  his  new 
authority,  than  by  any  compunction  or  impulse  of 
humanity,  agreed  to  recall  the  general  order,  and  to 
limit  himself,  in  the  first  instance,  to  a  single  deed  of 
butchery,  by  way  of  testing  the  temper  of  the  nation. 
Some  difficulty  seems  to  have  arisen  in  the  selection 
of  the  fittest  victim.  Both  Keppoch  and  Glencoe 
were  named,  but  the  personal  rancour  of  Secretary 
Dalrymple  decided  the  doom  of  the  latter.  The  Secre- 
tary wrote  thus : — "  Argyle  tells  me  that  Glencoe  hath 
not  taken  the  oath,  at  which  I  rejoice.  It  is  a  great 
work  of  charity  to  be  exact  in  rooting  out  that 
damnable  set."  The  final  instructions  regarding 
Glencoe,  which  were  issued  on  16th  January,  1692, 
are  as  follows : — 

"  William  R. — As  for  M'lan  of  Glencoe,  and  that  tribe, 
if  they  can  be  well  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the 
Highlanders,  it  will  be  proper  for  public  justice  to  extirpate 
that  set  of  thieves.  "  W.  R." 

This  letter  is  remarkable  as  being  signed  and  counter- 
signed by  William  alone,  contrary  to  the  usual  practice. 
The  Secretary  was  no  doubt  desirous  to  screen  himself 
from  after  responsibility,  and  was  further  aware  that 
the  royal  signature  would  insure  a  rigorous  execution 
of  the  sentence. 

Macdonald,  or,  as  he  was  more  commonly  designed, 
M'lan  of  Glencoe,  was  the  head  of  a  considerable  sept 
or  branch  of    the  great  Clan-Coila,  and  was  lineally 

G 


9?  THE   WIDOW   OF   GLENCOE 

descended  from  the  ancient  Lords  of  the  Isles,  and 
from  the  royal  family  of  Scotland — the  common  ances- 
tor of  the  Macdonalds  having  espoused  a  daughter  of 
Eobert  II.  He  was,  according  to  a  contemporary  tes- 
timony, "  a  person  of  great  integrity,  honour,  good 
nature,  and  courage ;  and  his  loyalty  to  his  old  master, 
King  James,  was  such,  that  he  continued  in  arms  from 
Dundee's  first  appearing  in  the  Highlands,  till  the  fatal 
treaty  that  brought  on  his  ruin."  In  common  with 
the  other  chiefs,  he  had  omitted  taking  the  benefit  of 
the  indemnity  until  he  received  the  sanction  of  King 
James:  but  the  copy  of  that  document  which  was 
forwarded  to  him,  unfortunately  arrived  too  late.  The 
weather  was  so  excessively  stormy  at  the  time  that 
there  was  no  possibility  of  penetrating  from  Glencoe 
to  Inverara,  the  place  where  the  sheriff  resided,  before 
the  expiry  of  the  stated  period ;  and  M'lan  accordingly 
adopted  the  only  practicable  mode  of  signifying  his 
submission,  by  making  his  way  with  great  difficulty  to 
Fort- William,  then  called  Inverlochy,  and  tendering 
his  signature  to  the  military  Governor  there.  That 
officer  was  not  authorised  to  receive  it,  but  at  the 
earnest  entreaty  of  the  chief,  he  gave  him  a  certificate 
of  his  appearance  and  tender,  and  on  New-Year's  day, 
1692,  M'lan  reached  Inverara,  where  he  produced  that 
paper  as  evidence  of  his  intentions,  and  prevailed  upon 
the  sheriff.  Sir  James  Campbell  of  Ardkinglass,  to 
administer  the  oaths  required.  After  that  ceremony, 
which  was  immediately  intimated  to  the  Privy  Council, 
had  been  performed,  the  unfortunate  gentleman  returned 


THE    WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE  99 

home,  in  the  full  conviction  that  he  had  thereby  made 
peace  with  government  for  himself  and  for  his  clan. 
But  his  doom  was  already  sealed. 

A  company  of  the  Earl  of  Argyle's  regiment  had 
been  previously  quartered  in  Glencoe.  These  men, 
though  Campbells,  and  hereditarily  obnoxious  to  the 
Macdonalds,  Camerons,  and  other  of  the  loyal  clans, 
were  yet  countrymen,  and  were  kindly  and  hospitably 
received.  Their  captain,  Robert  Campbell  of  Glenlyon, 
was  connected  with  the  family  of  Glencoe  through  the 
marriage  of  a  niece,  and  was  resident  under  the  roof 
of  the  chief.  And  yet  this  was  the  very  troop  selected 
for  the  horrid  service. 

Special  instructions  were  sent  to  the  major  of  the 
regiment,  one  Duncanson,  then  quartered  at  Balla- 
chulish — a  morose,  brutal,  and  savage  man — who 
accordingly  wrote  to  Campbell  of  Glenlyon  in  the 
following  terms : — 

Ballacholis,  12  February,  1692. 

"  Sm, — You  are  hereby  ordered  to  fall  upon  the  rebels, 
the  M'Donalds  of  Glencoe,  and  putt  all  to  the  sword  under 
seventy.  You  are  to  have  special  care  that  the  old  fox  and 
his  sons  doe  upon  no  account  escape  your  hands.  You  are 
to  secure  all  the  avenues,  that  no  man  escape.  This  you 
are  to  put  in  execution  att  five  o'clock  in  the  morning 
precisely,  and  by  that  time,  or  very  shortly  after  it,  I'll 
strive  to  be  att  you  with  a  stronger  party.  If  I  doe  not 
come  to  you  at  five,  you  are  not  to  tarry  for  me,  but  to  fall 
on.  This  is  by  the  king's  speciall  command,  for  the  good 
and  safety  of  the  country,  that  these  miscreants  be  cutt  ofi" 


loo  THE   WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE 

root  and  branch.  See  that  this  be  putt  in  execution  without 
feud  or  favour,  else  you  may  expect  to  be  treated  aa  not 
true  to  the  king's  government,  nor  a  man  fitt  to  carry  a 
commission  in  the  king's  service.  Expecting  you  will  not 
faill  in  the  fulfilling  hereof  as  you  love  yourself,  I  subscribe 
these  with  my  hand.  .<  Robert  Duncanson. 

"  Fw  their  Majestys'  service. 
"  To  Captain  Robert  Campbell  of  Gle^ilymi." 

This  order  was  but  too  literally  obeyed.  At  the 
appointed  hour,  when  the  whole  inhabitants  of  the 
glen  were  asleep,  the  work  of  murder  began.  M'lan 
was  one  of  the  first  who  fell.  Drumniond's  narrative 
fills  up  the  remainder  of  the  dreadful  story. 

"  They  then  served  all  within  the  family  in  the  same 
manner,  without  distinction  of  age  or  person.  In  a 
word — for  the  horror  of  that  execrable  butchery  must 
give  pain  to  the  reader — they  left  none  alive  but  a 
young  child,  who,  being  frightened  with  the  noise  of 
the  guns,  and  the  dismal  shrieks  and  cries  of  its  dying 
parents,  whom  they  were  a-murdering,  got  hold  of 
Captain  Campbell's  knees,  and  wrapt  itself  within  his 
cloak ;  by  which,  chancing  to  move  compassion,  the 
captain  inclined  to  have  saved  it,  but  one  Drummond, 
an  officer,  arriving  about  the  break  of  day  with  more 
troops,  commanded  it  to  be  shot  by  a  file  of  mus- 
queteers.  Nothing  could  be  more  shocking  and  horrible 
than  the  prospect  of  these  houses  bestrewed  with 
mangled  bodies  of  the  dead,  covered  with  blood,  and 
resounding  with  the  groans  of  wretches  in  the  last 
agonies  of  life. 


THE   WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE  loi 

"  Two  sons  of  Glencoe's  were  the  only  persons  that 
escaped  in  that  quarter  of  the  country ;  for,  growing 
jealous  of  some  ill  designs  from  the  behaviour  of  the 
soldiers,  they  stole  from  their  beds  a  few  minutes 
before  the  tragedy  began,  and,  chancing  to  overhear 
two  of  them  discoursing  plainly  of  the  matter,  they 
endeavoured  to  have  advertised  their  father,  but, 
finding  that  impracticable,  they  ran  to  the  other  end  of 
the  country  and  alarmed  the  inhabitants.  There  was 
another  accident  that  contributed  much  to  their  safety  ; 
for  the  night  was  so  excessively  stormy  and  tempes- 
tuous, that  four  hundred  soldiers,  who  were  appointed 
to  murder  these  people,  were  stopped  in  their  march 
from  luverlochy,  and  could  not  get  up  till  they  had 
time  to  save  themselves.  To  cover  the  deformity  of 
so  dreadful  a  sight,  the  soldiers  burned  all  the  houses 
to  the  ground,  after  having  rifled  them,  carried  away 
nine  hundred  cows,  two  hundred  horses,  numberless 
herds  of  sheep  and  goats,  and  every  thing  else  that 
belonged  to  these  miserable  people.  Lamentable  was 
the  case  of  the  women  and  children  that  escaped  the 
butchery ;  the  mountains  were  covered  with  a  deep 
snow,  the  rivers  impassable,  storm  and  tempest  filled 
the  air  and  added  to  the  horrors  and  darkness  of  the 
night,  and  there  were  no  houses  to  shelter  them  within 
many  miles."* 

Such  was  the  awful  massacre  of  Glencoe,  an  event 
which  has  left  an  indelible  and  execrable  stain  upon 
the  memory  of  William  of    Orange.     The  records  of 
*  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewen  Cameron  of  LocTieill. 

LIBRARY 

UNlVERSir:'  C?  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


I02  THE    WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE 

Indian  warfare  can  hardly  afford  a  parallel  instance 
of  atrocity :  and  this  deed,  coupled  with  his  deliberate 
treachery  in  the  Darien  scheme,  whereby  Scotland 
was  for  a  time  absolutely  ruined,  is  sufficient  to 
account  for  the  little  estimation  in  which  the  name  of 
the  "great  Whig  deliverer"  is  still  regarded  in  the 
valleys  of  the  ISTorth. 


THE   WIDOW   OF   GLENCOE 


Do  not  lift  him  from  the  bracken, 

Leave  him  lying  where  he  fell — 
Better  bier  ye  cannot  fashion : 

None  beseems  him  half  so  well 
As  the  bare  and  broken  heather, 

And  the  hard  and  trampled  sod, 
Whence  his  angry  soul  ascended 

To  the  judgment-seat  of  God  ! 
Winding-sheet  we  cannot  give  him — 

Seek  no  mantle  for  the  dead, 
Save  the  cold  and  spotless  covering 

Showered  from  heaven  upon  his  head. 
Leave  his  broadsword,  as  we  found  it, 

Bent  and  broken  with  the  blow. 
That,  before  he  died,  avenged  him 

On  the  foremost  of  the  foe. 
Leave  the  blood  upon  his  bosom — 

Wash  not  off  that  sacred  stain : 
Let  it  stiffen  on  tiie  tartan, 

Let  his  wounds  unclosed  remain, 


I04  THE   WIDOW   OF    GLENCOE 

Till  the  day  when  he  shall  show  them 
At  the  throue  of  God  on  high, 

When  the  murderer  and  the  murdered 
Meet  before  their  Judge's  eye  ! 

Nay — ye  should  not  weep,  my  cliildreu  ! 

Leave  it  to  the  faint  and  weak ; 
Sobs  are  but  a  woman's  weapon — ■ 

Tears  befit  a  maiden's  cheek. 
Weep  not,  children  of  Macdonald  ! 

Weep  not  thou,  his  orphan  heir — 
Not  in  shame,  but  stainless  honour, 

Lies  thy  slaughtered  father  there. 
Weep  not — but  when  years  are  over. 

And  thine  arm  is  strong  and  sure. 
And  thy  foot  is  swift  and  steady 

On  the  mountain  and  the  muir — 
Let  thy  heart  be  hard  as  iron, 

And  thy  wrath  as  fierce  as  fire, 
Till  the  hour  when  vengeance  cometh 

For  the  race  that  slew  thy  sire ; 
Till  in  deep  and  dark  Glenlyon 

Kise  a  louder  shriek  of  woe 
Than  at  midnight,  from  their  eyrie, 

Scared  the  eagles  of  Glencoe ; 
Louder  than  the  screams  that  mingled 

With  the  liowling  of  the  blast. 
When  the  murderer's  steel  was  clashing. 

And  the  tires  were  risinfj  fast ; 


THE    WIDOW   OF    GLENCOE  105 

When  thy  noble  father  bounded 

To  the  rescue  of  his  men, 
And  the  slogan  of  our  kindred 

Pealed  throughout  the  startled  glen ; 
When  the  herd  of  frantic  women 

Stumbled  through  the  midnight  snow, 
With  their  fathers'  houses  blazing, 

And  their  dearest  dead  below. 
Oh,  the  horror  of  the  tempest, 

As  the  Hashing  drift  was  blown, 
Crimsoned  with  the  conilagration, 

And  the  roofs  went  thundering  down ! 
Oh,  the  prayers — the  prayers  and  curses 

That  together  winged  their  flight 
From  the  maddened  hearts  of  many 

Through  that  long  and  woeful  night ! 
Till  the  fires  began  to  dwindle. 

And  tlie  sliots  grew  faint  and  few. 
And  we  heard  the  foeman's  challenge 

Only  ill  a  fur  halloo  ; 
Till  the  silence  once  more  settled 

O'er  the  gorges  of  the  glen. 
Broken  only  by  the  Cona 

Plunging  through  its  naked  den. 
Slowly  from  the  mountain-summit 

Was  the  drifting  veil  withdrawn, 
And  the  ghastly  valley  glimmered 

In  the  gray  December  dawn. 
Better  had  the  morning  never 

Dawned  upon  our  dark  despair  ' 


io6  THE    WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE 

Black  amidst  the  common  whiteness 

Kose  the  spectral  ruins  there : 
But  the  sight  of  these  was  nothing 

More  than  wrings  the  wild  dove's  breast, 
When  she  searches  for  her  offspring 

Eound  the  relics  of  her  nest. 
For  in  many  a  spot  the  tartan 

Peered  above  the  wintry  heap, 
Marking  where  a  dead  Macdonald 

Lay  within  his  frozen  sleep. 
Tremblingly  we  scooped  the  covering 

From  each  kindred  victim's  head, 
And  the  living  lips  were  burning 

On  the  cold  ones  of  the  dead. 
And  I  left  theui  with  their  dearest — 

Dearest  charge  had  everyone — 
Left  the  maiden  with  her  lover, 

Left  the  mother  with  her  son. 
I  alone  of  all  was  mateless — 

Far  more  wretched  I  than  they, 
For  the  snow  would  not  discover 

Where  my  lord  and  husband  lay. 
But  I  wandered  up  the  valley 

Till  I  found  him  Ivins  low. 
With  the  gash  upon  his  bosom, 

And  the  frown  upon  his  brow — 
Till  I  found  him  lying  murdered 

Where  he  wooed  me  long  ago. 
Woman's  weakness  shall  not  shame  me  ; 
Why  should  I  have  tears  to  shed  ? 


THE    WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE  107 

Could  I  rain  them  down  like  water, 

0  my  hero,  on  thy  head, 
Could  the  cry  of  lamentation 

Wake  thee  from  thy  silent  sleep, 
Could  it  set  thy  heart  a-throLbing, 
It  were  mine  to  wail  and  weep. 
But  I  will  not  waste  my  sorrow, 
Lest  the  Campbell  women  say 
That  the  daughters  of  Clanranald 

Are  as  weak  and  frail  as  they. 
I  had  wept  thee  hadst  thou  fallen, 
Like  our  fathers,  on  thy  shield, 
When  a  host  of  English  foemen 
Camped  upon  a  Scottish  field  ; 
I  had  mourned  thee  hadst  thou  perished 

With  the  foremost  of  his  name, 
When  the  valiant  and  the  noble 

Died  around  the  dauntless  Gramme. 
But  I  will  not  wrong  thee,  luisband ! 

With  my  unavailing  cries, 
Whilst  thy  cold  and  mangled  body. 

Stricken  by  the  traitor,  lies  ; 
Whilst  he  counts  the  gold  and  glory 
That  this  hideous  night  has  won. 
And  his  heart  is  big  with  triumph 

At  the  murder  he  has  done. 
Other  eyes  than  mine  shall  glisten. 

Other  hearts  be  rent  in  twain. 
Ere  the  heathbells  on  thy  hillock 
Wither  in  the  autumn  rain. 


io8  THE   WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE 

Then  I  '11  seek  thee  where  thou  sleepest, 

And  I  '11  veil  my  weary  head, 
Praying  for  a  place  beside  thee, 

Dearer  than  my  bridal-bed : 
And  I  '11  give  thee  tears,  my  husband, 

If  the  tears  remain  to  me, 
When  the  widows  of  the  foemen 

Cry  the  coronach  for  thee. 


THE    ISLAND   OF    THE    SCOTS 

In  consequence  of  a  capitulation  with  Government, 
the  regular  troops  who  had  served  under  Lord  Dundee 
were  transhipped  to  France,  and,  immediately  upon 
their  landing,  the  officers  and  others  had  their  rank 
confirmed  according  to  the  tenor  of  the  commissions 
and  characters  which  they  bore  in  Scotland.  They 
were  distributed  throughout  the  different  garrisons  in 
the  north  of  France,  and,  though  nominally  in  the 
service  of  King  James,  derived  their  whole  means  of 
subsistence  from  the  bounty  of  the  French  monarch. 
So  long  as  it  appeared  probable  that  another  descent 
was  meditated,  those  gentlemen,  who  were  almost 
without  exception  men  of  considerable  family,  assented 
to  this  arrangement,  but  the  destruction  of  the  French 
fleet  under  Admiral  Tourville,  off  La  Hogue,  led  to  a 
material  change  in  their  views.  After  that  naval 
engagement  it  became  obvious  that  the  cause  of  the 
fugitive  King  was  in  the  mean  time  desperate,  and  the 
Scottish  officers,  with  no  less  gallantry  than  honour, 
volunteered  a  sacrifice  which,  so  far  as  I  know,  has 
hardly  been  equalled. 


no  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

The  old  and  interesting  pamphlet  written  by  one 
of  the  corps,*  from  which  I  have  extracted  most  of 
the  following  details,  but  which  is  seldom  perused 
except  by  the  antiquary,  states  that,  "The  Scottish 
officers,  considering  that,  by  the  loss  of  the  French 
Fleet,  King  James's  restoration  would  be  retarded 
for  some  time,  and  that  they  were  burdensome  to 
the  King  of  France,  being  entertained  in  garrisons 
on  whole  pay,  without  doing  duty,  when  he  had 
almost  all  Europe  in  confederacy  against  him,  there- 
fore humbly  entreated  King  James  to  have  them 
reduced  into  a  company  of  private  sentinels,  and 
choose  officers  amongst  themselves  to  command  them, 
assuring  his  majesty  that  they  would  serve  in  the 
meanest  circumstances,  and  undergo  the  greatest  hard- 
ships and  fatigues  that  reason  could  imagine,  or 
misfortunes  inflict,  until  it  pleased  God  to  restore 
him.  King  James  commended  their  generosity  and 
loyalty,  but  disapproved  of  what  they  proposed,  and 
told  them  it  was  impossible  that  gentlemen  who  had 
served  in  so  honourable  posts  as  formerly  they  had 
enjoyed,  and  lived  in  so  great  plenty  and  ease,  could 
ever  undergo  the  fatigue  and  hardships  of  private 
sentinels'  duty.  Again,  that  his  own  first  command 
was  a  company  of  officers,  whereof  several  died, 
others,  wearied  with   fatigue,  drew   their   discharges, 

*  An  account  of  Dundee^ s  Officers  after  they  went  to  France.  By 
an  Officer  of  the  Army.     Ijondon,  1714. 


THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS  in 

till  at  last  it  dwindled  into  nothing,  and  he  got  no 
reputation  by  the  command:  therefore  he  desired 
them  to  insist  no  more  on  that  project.  The  officers 
(notwithstanding  his  majesty's  desire  to  the  contrary) 
made  several  interests  at  court,  and  harassed  him  so 
much,  that  at  last  he  condescended,"  and  appointed 
those  who  were  to  command  them. 

Shortly  afterwards  tlie  new  corps  was  reviewed  for 
the  first  and  last  time  by  the  unfortunate  James  in 
the  gardens  of  Saint  Germains,  and  the  tears  are  said 
to  have  gushed  from  his  eyes  at  the  sight  of  so  many 
brave  men,  reduced,  through  their  disinterested  and 
persevering  loyalty,  to  so  very  humble  a  condition. 
"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  my  own  misfortunes  are  not 
so  nigh  my  heart  as  yours.  It  grieves  me  beyond 
what  I  can  express  to  see  so  many  brave  and  worthy 
gentlemen,  who  had  once  the  prospect  of  being  the 
chief  officers  in  my  army,  reduced  to  the  stations 
of  private  sentinels.  Nothing  but  your  loyalty,  and 
that  of  a  few  of  my  subjects  in  Britain,  who  are  forced 
from  their  allegiance  by  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and 
who,  I  know,  will  be  ready  on  all  occasions  to  serve 
me  and  my  distressed  family,  could  make  me  willing 
to  live.  The  sense  of  what  all  of  you  have  done 
and  undergone  for  your  loyalty  hath  made  so  deep 
an  impression  upon  my  heart,  that,  if  it  ever  please 
God  to  restore  me,  it  is  impossible  I  can  be  forgetful 
of  your  services  and  sufferings.  Neither  can  there  be 
any  posts  in  the  armies  of  my  dominions  but  what 


112  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

you  have  just  preteusions  to.  As  for  my  son,  your 
Prince,  he  is  of  your  own  blood,  a  child  capable  of 
any  impression,  and,  as  his  education  will  be  from  you, 
it  is  not  supposable  that  he  can  forget  your  merits. 
At  your  own  desires  you  are  now  going  a  long  march 
far  distant  from  me.  Fear  God  and  love  one  another. 
Write  your  wants  particularly  to  me,  and  depend  upon 
it  always  to  find  me  your  parent  and  King."  The 
scene  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  one  which  many 
years  afterwards  occurred  at  Fontainebleau.  The  com- 
pany listened  to  his  words  with  deep  emotion,  gathered 
round  him,  as  if  half  repentant  of  their  own  desire  to 
go,  and  so  parted,  for  ever  on  this  earth,  the  dethroned 
monarch  and  his  exiled  subjects. 

The  number  of  this  company  of  ofticers  was  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty :  their  destination  was  Per- 
pignan  in  Rousillon,  close  upon  the  frontier  of  Spain, 
where  they  were  to  join  the  army  under  the  command 
of  the  Mareschal  de  JSToailles.  Their  power  of  endurance, 
though  often  most  severely  tested  in  an  unwholesome 
climate,  seems  to  have  been  no  less  remarkable  than 
their  gallantry,  which  upon  many  occasions  called  forth 
the  warm  acknowledgment  of  the  French  commanders. 
"  Le  gentilhonime^'  said  one  of  the  generals,  in  acknow- 
ledgment of  their  readiness  at  a  peculiarly  critical 
moment,  "  est  toujoiirs  gentilhomme,  et  se  monirc  toujours 
tel  dans  hcs&in  et  dans  le  danger  " — a  eulogy  as  applicable 
to  them  as  it  was  in  later  days  to  La  Tour  d'  Auvergne, 
styled  the  first  grenadier  of   France.      At  Perpignan 


THE   ISLAND   OF   THE   SCOTS  113 

they  were  joined  by  two  other  Scottish  companies,  and 
the  three  seem  to  have  continued  to  serve  together  for 
several  campaigns. 

As  a  proof  of  the  estimation  in  which  they  were 
hehl,  I  shall  merely  extract  a  short  account  of  the 
taking  of  llosas  in  Catalonia,  before  referring  to  the 
exploit  which  forms  the  subject  of  the  following 
ballad.  "  On  the  27th  of  May,  the  company  of  officers 
and  other  Scottish  companies,  were  joined  by  two 
companies  of  Irish,  to  make  up  a  battalion  in  order 
to  mount  the  trenches;  and  the  major  part  of 
the  officers  listed  themselves  in  the  company  of 
grenadiers,  under  the  command  of  the  brave  Major 
llutherford,  who,  on  his  way  to  the  trenches,  in 
sight  of  Mareschal  de  Noailles  and  his  court,  marched 
with  his  company  on  the  side  of  the  trench,  which 
exposed  him  to  the  fire  of  a  bastion,  where  there 
were  two  culverins  and  several  other  guns  planted ; 
likewise  to  the  fire  of  two  curtins  lined  with  small 
shot.  Colonel  Brown,  following  with  the  battalion, 
was  obliged,  in  honour,  to  march  the  same  way 
Major  Eutherford  had  done ;  the  danger  whereof 
the  Mareschal  immediately  perceiving,  ordered  one 
of  his  aides-de-camp  to  command  Paitherford  to 
march  under  cover  of  the  trench,  which  he  did ; 
and  if  he  had  but  delayed  six  minutes,  the  grenadiers 
and  battalion  had  been  cut  to  pieces.  Eutherford, 
with  his  grenadiers,  marched  to  a  trench  near  the 
town,  and  the  battalion  to  a  trench  on  the  rear  and 

H 


114  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

flank  of   the  grenadiers,  who  fired  so  incessantly  on 
the   besieged,  that   they    thought    (the    trench    being 
practicable)  they  were  going  to  make  their   attacks, 
innnediately   beat    a    chamade,  and    were    willing    to 
crive  up  the   town   upon   reasonable  terms :    but   the 
Mareschal's    demands    were    so    exorbitant,  that    the 
Governor    could    not    agree    to    them.      Then    tiring 
began   on   both   sides   to  be  very  hot;    and  they  in 
the  town,  seeing  how  the  grenadiers  lay,  killed  eight 
of  them.     When  the  Governor  surrendered  the  town, 
he  inquired  of  the  Mareschal  what  countrymen  these 
crrenadiers  were;    and  assured  him   it   was   on   their 
account  he  delivered  up  the  town,  because  they  fired 
so  hotly,   that    he   beheved    they   were    resolved    to 
attack  the  breach.     He  answered,  smiling,  '  Ges  sont 
mes  en/ants— Thej  are  my  children.'    Again  ;  '  they  are 
the   King   of    Great   Britain's   Scottish   officers,  who, 
to  show  their  willingness  to   share   of    his   miseries, 
have   reduced   themselves   to    the   carrying   of    arms, 
and  chosen  to  serve  under  my  command.'     The  next 
day,  when    the    Mareschal    rode   along   the   front   of 
the  camp,  he  halted  at  the  company  of   the  officers' 
piquet,  and    they    all    surrounded  him.     Then,    with 
his  hat  in  his  hand,  he  thanked  them  for  their  good 
services  in  the  trenches,  and  freely  acknowledged  it 
was  their  conduct  and  courage  which  compelled  the 
Governor  to  give   up   the   town;    and   assured   them 
he  would  acquaint  his  master  with  the  same,  which 
he  did.     For  when   his   son   arrived   with   the   news 


THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS  115 

at  Versailles,  the  King,  having  read  the  letter,  imme- 
diately took  coach  to  St.  Germains ;  and  when  he  had 
shown  King  James  the  letter,  he  thanked  him  for 
the  services  his  subjects  had  done  in  taking  Eosas 
in  Catalonia;  who,  with  concern,  replied,  they  were 
the  stock  of  his  British  officers,  and  that  he  was 
sorry  he  could  not  make  better  provision  for  them." 

And  a  miserable  provision  it  was !  They  were 
gradually  compelled  to  part  with  every  remnant  of 
the  property  which  they  had  secured  from  the  ruins 
of  their  fortunes ;  so  that  when  they  arrived,  after 
various  adventures,  at  Scelestat,  in  Alsace,  they  were 
literally  without  the  common  means  of  subsistence. 
Famine  and  the  sword  had,  by  this  time,  thinned  their 
ranks,  but  had  not  diminished  their  spirit,  as  the 
following  narrative  of  their  last  exploit  will  show : — 

"In  December  1697,  General  Stirk,  who  commanded 
for  the  Germans,  appeared  with  1G,000  men  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Ehine,  which  obliged  tlie  Marquis  de 
Sell  to  draw  out  all  the  garrisons  in  Alsace,  who  made 
up  about  4000  men ;  and  he  encamped  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Ehine,  over  against  General  Stirk,  to 
prevent  his  passing  the  Ehine  and  carrying  a  bridge 
over  into  an  island  in  the  middle  of  it,  which  the 
French  foresaw  would  be  of  great  prejudice  to  them. 
For  the  enemy's  guns,  placed  on  that  island,  would 
extremely  gall  their  camp,  which  they  could  not  hinder 
for  the  deepness  of  the  water  and  their  wanting  of 
boats — for    which    the    Marquis    quickly    sent ;    but 


ii6  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

arriving  too  late,  the  Germans  had  carried  a  bridge 

over  into  the  island,  where  they  had  posted  above  five 

hundred    men,    who,    by    order    of    their    engineers, 

intrenched  themselves :  which  the  company  of  officers 

perceiving,    who    always    grasped    after    honour,    and 

scorned  all  thoughts  of  danger,  resolved  to  wade  the 

river,  and  attack  the  Germans  in  the  island ;   and  for 

that   effect,  desired   Captain  John   Foster,  who   then 

commanded  them,  to  beg  of   the  Marquis  that  they 

might    have   liberty   to   attack   the   Germans   in   the 

island ;  who  told  Captain  Foster,  when  the  boats  came 

up,  they  should  be  the   first   that   attacked.     Foster 

courteously  thanked  the  Marquis,  and  told  him  they 

would    wade    into    the    island,    who    shrunk    up    his 

shoulders,   prayed    God    to    bless    them,   and   desired 

them    to    do   what    they   pleased."      Whereupon    the 

officers,  with  the  other  two  Scottish  companies,  made 

themselves    ready;    and    having    secured    their    arms 

round  their  necks,  waded  into  the  river  hand-in-hand, 

"according  to  the  Highland  fashion,"  with  the  water 

as  high  as  their  breasts ;  and  having  crossed  the  heavy 

stream,  fell  upon  the  Germans  in  their  intrenchment. 

These    were    presently    thrown    into    confusion,    and 

retreated,   breaking   down   their   own   bridges,   whilst 

many  of  them  were  drowned.     This  movement,  having 

been  made  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  partook  of  the 

character  of  a  surprise;   but  it  appears  to  me  a  very 

remarkable   one,  as   having  l3een  effected  under  such 

circumstances,  in  the  dead  of  winter,  and  in  the  face 


THE    ISLAND   OF   THE   SCOTS  117 

of  an  enemy  who  possessed  the  advantages  both  of 
position  and  of  numerical  superiority.  The  author  of 
the  narrative  adds : — "  When  the  Marquis  de  Sell 
heard  the  firing,  and  understood  that  the  Germans 
were  heat  out  of  the  island,  he  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross  on  his  face  and  breast,  and  declared  publicly,  that 
it  was  the  bravest  action  that  ever  he  saw,  and  that  his 
army  had  no  honour  by  it.  As  soon  as  the  boats  came, 
the  Marquis  sent  into  the  island  to  acquaint  the  officers 
that  he  would  send  them  both  troops  and  provisions, 
who  thanked  his  Excellency,  and  desired  he  should  be 
informed  that  they  wanted  no  troops,  and  could  not 
spare  time  to  make  use  of  provisions,  and  only  desired 
spades,  shovels,  and  pickaxes,  wherewith  they  might 
intrench  themselves — which  were  immediately  sent  to 
them.  The  next  morning,  the  Marquis  came  into  the 
island,  and  kindly  embraced  every  officer,  and  thanked 
them  for  the  good  service  they  had  done  his  master, 
assuring  them  he  would  write  a  true  account  of  their 
honour  and  bravery  to  the  Court  of  France,  which, 
at  the  reading  his  letters,  immediately  went  to  St. 
Germains,  and  thanked  King  James  for  the  services 
his  subjects  had  done  on  the  Ehine." 

The  company  kept  possession  of  the  island  for  nearly 
six  weeks,  notwithstanding  repeated  attempts  on  the 
part  of  the  Germans  to  surprise  and  dislodge  them ; 
but  all  these  having  been  defeated  by  the  extreme 
watchfulness  of  the  Scots,  General  Stirk  at  length 
drew  off  his  army  and  retreated.     "  In  consequence  of 


ii8  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

this  action,"  says  the  chronicler,  "  that  island  is  called 
at  present  Isle  d'Ecosse,  and  will  in  likelihood  bear 
that  name  until  the  general  conflagration." 

Two  years  afterwards,  a  treaty  of  peace  was  con- 
cluded ;  and  this  gallant  company  of  soldiers,  worthy 
of  a  better  fate,  was  broken  up  and  dispersed.  At  the 
time  when  the  narrative,  from  which  I  have  quoted  so 
freely,  was  compiled,  not  more  than  sixteen  of  Dundee's 
veterans  were  alive.  The  author  concludes  thus, — "And 
tlius  was  dissolved  one  of  the  best  companies  that  ever 
marched  under  command !  Gentlemen,  who,  in  the 
midst  of  all  their  pressures  and  obscurity,  never  forgot 
they  were  gentlemen;  and  whom  the  sweets  of  a  brave, 
a  just,  and  honourable  conscience,  rendered  perhaps 
more  happy  under  those  sufferings,  than  the  most 
prosperous  and  triumphant  in  iniquity,  since  our  minds 
stamp  our  happiness." 

Some  years  ago,  while  visiting  the  ancient  Scottish 
convent  at  Eatisbon,  my  attention  was  drawn  to  the 
monumental  inscriptions  on  the  walls  of  the  dormitory, 
many  of  which  bear  reference  to  gentlemen  of  family 
and  distinction,  whose  political  principles  had  in- 
volved them  in  the  troubles  of  1688,  1715,  and  1745. 
Whether  the  cloister  which  now  holds  their  dust  had 
afforded  them  a  shelter  in  the  later  years  of  their 
misfortunes,  I  know  not;  but  for  one  that  is  so 
commemorated,  hundreds  of  the  exiles  must  have 
passed  away  in  obscurity,  buried  in  the  field  on 
which  they  fell,  or  carried  from  the  damp  vaults  of 


THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS  119 

the  military  hospital  to  the  trench,  without  any  token 
of  reniemhrance,  or  any  other  wish  beyond  that  which 
the  minstrels  have  ascrilDed  to  one  of  the  greatest  of 
our  olden  heroes — 

"  Oh  bury  me  by  the  bracken  bush, 
Beneath  the  blooming  brier  : 
Let  never  living  mortal  ken 
That  a  kindly  Scot  lies  here  !  " 


THE   ISLAND   OF   THE   SCOTS 


The  Ehine  is  running  deep  and  red, 

The  island  lies  before — 
"  Now  is  there  one  of  all  the  host 

Will  dare  to  venture  o'er  ? 
For  not  alone  the  river's  sweep 

Might  make  a  brave  man  quail : 
The  foe  are  on  the  further  side, 

Their  shot  comes  fast  as  hail. 
God  help  us,  if  the  middle  isle 

We  may  not  hope  to  win  ! 
Now,  is  there  any  of  the  host 

Will  dare  to  venture  in  ?  " 

II. 

"  The  ford  is  deep,  the  banks  are  steep. 

The  island-shore  lies  wide : 
Nor  man  nor  horse  could  stem  its  force, 

Or  reach  the  further  side. 
See  there !  amidst  the  willow  boughs 

The  serried  bayonets  gleam ; 


THE   ISLAND   OF  THE   SCOTS  121 

They've  Hung  their  bridge — they've  won  the  isle ; 

The  foe  have  crossed  the  stream ! 
Their  volley  flashes  sharp  and  strong — 

By  all  the  Saints,  I  trow, 
There  never  yet  was  soldier  born 

Could  force  that  passage  now  ! " 


III. 

So  spoke  the  bold  French  Mareschal 

With  him  who  led  the  van, 
Wliilst  rough  and  red  before  their  view 

The  turbid  river  ran. 
'Nov  bridge  nor  boat  had  they  to  cross 

The  wild  and  swollen  Ehine, 
And  thundering  on  the  other  bank 

Far  stretched  the  German  line. 
Hard  by  there  stood  a  swarthy  man 

Was  leaning  on  his  sword, 
And  a  saddened  smile  lit  up  his  face 

As  he  heard  the  Captain's  word. 
"  I  've  seen  a  wilder  stream  ere  now 

Than  that  which  rushes  there ; 
I  've  stemmed  a  heavier  torrent  yet 

And  never  thought  to  dare. 
If  German  steel  be  sharp  and  keen, 

Is  ours  not  strong  and  true  ? 
There  may  be  danger  in  the  deed. 

But  there  is  honour  too." 


122  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

IV. 

The  old  lord  in  his  saddle  turned, 

And  hastily  he  said — 
"  Hath  bold  Diiguesclin's  fiery  heart 

Awakened  from  the  dead  ? 
Thou  art  the  leader  of  the  Scots — 

Now  well  and  sure  I  know, 
That  gentle  blood  in  dangerous  hour 

Ne'er  yet  ran  cold  nor  slow, 
And  I  have  seen  ye  in  the  fight 

Do  all  that  mortal  may : 
If  honour  is  the  boon  ye  seek 

It  may  be  won  this  day. 
The  prize  is  in  the  middle  isle, 

There  lies  the  venturous  way ; 
And  armies  twain  are  on  the  plain, 

The  daring  deed  to  see — 
Now  ask  thy  gallant  company 

If  they  will  follow  thee  ! " 


Itight  gladsome  looked  the  Captain  tlien. 

And  nothing  did  he  say, 
But  he  turned  him  to  his  little  band — 

Oh  few,  I  ween,  were  they  ! 
The  relics  of  the  bravest  force 

That  ever  fought  in  fray. 


THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS  123 

No  one  of  all  that  company 

But  bore  a  gentle  name, 
Not  one  whose  fathers  had  not  stood 

In  Scotland's  fields  of  fame. 
All  they  had  marched  with  great  Dundee 

To  where  he  fought  and  fell, 
And  in  the  deadly  battle-strife 

Had  venged  their  leader  well ; 
And  they  had  bent  the  knee  to  earth 

When  every  eye  was  dim, 
As  o'er  their  hero's  buried  corpse 

They  sang  the  funeral  hymn ; 
And  they  had  trod  the  Pass  once  more. 

And  stooped  on  either  side 
To  pluck  the  heather  from  the  spot 

Where  he  had  dropped  and  died ; 
And  they  had  bound  it  next  their  hearts, 

And  ta'en  a  last  farewell 
Of  Scottish  earth  and  Scottish  sky, 

Where  Scotland's  glory  fell. 
Then  went  they  forth  to  foreign  lands 

Like  bent  and  broken  men, 
Who  leave  their  dearest  hope  behind, 

And  may  not  turn  again  ! 


YI. 

"  The  stream,"  he  said,  "  is  broad  and  deep, 
And  stubborn  is  the  foe — 


124  THE    ISLAND   OF   THE   SCOTS 

Yon  island-strength  is  guarded  well — 

Say,  brothers,  will  ye  go  ? 
From  home  and  kin  for  many  a  year 

Our  steps  have  wandered  wide, 
And  never  may  our  bones  be  laid 

Our  fathers'  graves  beside. 
No  sisters  have  we  to  lament, 

No  wives  to  wail  our  fall ; 
The  traitor's  and  the  spoiler's  hand 

Have  reft  our  hearths  of  all. 
But  we  have  hearts,  and  we  have  arms 

As  strong  to  will  and  dare 
As  when  our  ancient  banners  flew 

Within  the  northern  air. 
Come,  brothers  ;  let  me  name  a  spell 

Shall  rouse  your  souls  again, 
And  send  the  old  blood  bounding  free 

Through  pulse,  and  heart,  and  vein  ! 
Call  back  the  days  of  bygone  years — 

Be  young  and  strong  once  more ; 
Think  yonder  stream,  so  stark  and  red. 

Is  one  we  've  crossed  before. 
Else,  hill  and  glen  !  rise,  crag  and  wood ! 

Else  up  on  either  hand — 
Again  upon  the  Garry's  banks, 

On  Scottish  soil  we  stand ! 
Again  I  see  the  tartans  wave. 

Again  the  trumpets  ring  ; 
Again  I  hear  our  leader's  call — 

'  Upon  them,  for  the  King  ! ' 


THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS  125 

Stayed  we  behind  that  glorious  day 

For  roaring  flood  or  linn  ? 
The  soul  of  Graeme  is  with  us  still — 

Now,  brothers  !  will  ye  in  ? " 

VII. 

No  stay — no  pause.     With  one  accord 

They  grasped  each  others'  hand, 
And  plunged  into  the  angry  flood, 

That  bold  and  dauntless  band. 
High  flew  the  spray  above  their  heads, 

Yet  onward  still  they  bore, 
Midst  cheer,  and  shout,  and  answering  yell, 

And  shot  and  cannon  roar, 
'  Now  by  the  Holy  Cross !  I  swear. 

Since  earth  and  sea  began 
Was  never  such  a  daring  deed 

Essayed  by  mortal  man ! " 

VIII. 

Thick  blew  the  smoke  across  the  stream. 

And  faster  flashed  the  flame : 
The  water  plashed  in  hissing  jets 

As  ball  and  bullet  came. 
Yet  onwards  pushed  the  Cavaliers 

All  stern  and  undismayed. 
With  thousand  armed  foes  before. 

And  none  behind  to  aid. 


126  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

Once,  as  they  iieared  the  middle  stream, 

So  strong  the  torrent  swept, 
That  scarce  that  long  and  living  wall, 

Their  dangerous  footing  kept. 
Then  rose  a  warning  cry  behind, 

A  joyous  shout  before : 
"  The  current 's  strong — the  way  is  long — 

They  '11  never  reach  the  shore  ! 
See,  see  !  They  stagger  in  the  midst, 

They  waver  in  their  line  ! 
Fire  on  the  madmen  !  break  their  ranks, 

And  whelm  them  in  the  Ehine  ! " 


IX. 

Have  you  seen  the  tall  trees  swaying 

When  the  blast  is  piping  shrill. 
And  the  whirlwind  reels  in  fury 

Down  the  gorges  of  the  hill  ? 
How  they  toss  their  mighty  branches, 

Striving  with  the  tempest's  shock  ; 
How  they  keep  their  place  of  vantage, 

Cleaving  firmly  to  the  rock  ? 
Even  so  the  Scottish  warriors 

Held  their  own  against  the  river ; 
Though  the  water  flashed  around  them. 

Not  an  eye  was  seen  to  quiver ; 
Though  the  shot  flew  sharp  and  deadly, 

Not  a  man  relaxed  his  hold : 


THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS  127 

For  their  hearts  were  big  and  thrilling 

With  the  mighty  thoughts  of  old. 
One  word  was  spoke  among  them, 

And  through  the  ranks  it  spread — 
"  Eemember  our  dead  Claverhouse ! " 

Was  all  the  Captain  said. 
Then,  sternly  bending  forward, 

They  struggled  on  awhile, 
Until  they  cleared  the  heavy  stream, 

Then  rushed  towards  the  isle. 


The  German  heart  is  stout  and  true, 

The  German  arm  is  strong  ; 
The  German  foot  goes  seldom  back 

Where  arm^d  foemen  throng. 
But  never  had  they  faced  in  field 

So  stern  a  charge  before, 
And  never  had  they  felt  the  sweep 

Of  Scotland's  broad  claymore. 
Not  fiercer  pours  the  avalanche 

Adown  the  steep  incline, 
That  rises  o'er  the  parent  springs 

Of  rough  and  rapid  Eliine — 
Scarce  swifter  shoots  the  bolt  from  heaven 

Than  came  the  Scottish  band, 
Right  up  against  the  guanled  trench, 

And  o'er  it,  sword  in  hand. 


128  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

In  vain  their  leaders  forward  press — 

They  meet  the  deadly  brand ! 
0  lonely  island  of  the  Ehine, 

Where  seed  was  never  sown, 
What  harvest  lay  upon  thy  sands, 

By  those  strong  reapers  thrown  ? 
What  saw  the  winter  moon  that  night. 

As,  struggling  through  the  rain, 
She  poured  a  wan  and  fitful  light 

On  marsh,  and  stream,  and  plain  ? 
A  dreary  spot  with  corpses  strewn. 

And  bayonets  glistening  round ; 
A  broken  bridge,  a  stranded  boat, 

A  bare  and  battered  mound  ; 
And  one  huge  watch-fire's  kindled  pile, 

That  sent  its  quivering  glare 
To  tell  the  leaders  of  the  host 

The  conquering  Scots  were  there  ! 


XL 

And  did  they  twine  the  laurel-wreath 

For  those  who  fought  so  well  ? 
And  did  they  honour  those  who  lived, 

And  weep  for  those  who  fell  ? 
What  meed  of  thanks  was  given  to  them 

Let  aged  annals  tell. 
Why  should  they  twine  the  laurel-wreath- 

Why  crown  the  cup  with  wine  ? 


THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS  129 

It  was  not  Frenchman's  blood  that  flowed 

So  freely  on  the  Rhine — 
A  strang;er  band  of  befjgared  men 

Had  done  the  venturous  deed : 
The  glory  was  to  France  alone, 

The  danger  was  their  meed. 
And  what  cared  they  for  idle  thanks 

From  foreign  prince  and  peer  ? 
What  virtue  had  such  honeyed  words 

The  exiles'  hearts  to  cheer  ? 
What  mattered  it  that  men  should  vaunt, 

And  loud  and  fondly  swear, 
That  higher  feat  of  chivalry 

Was  never  wrouoht  elsewhere  ? 
They  bore  within  their  breasts  the  grief 

That  fame  can  never  heal — 
The  deep,  unutterable  woe 

Which  none  save  exiles  feel. 
Their  hearts  were  yearning  for  the  land 

They  ne'er  might  see  again — 
For  Scotland's  high  and  heathered  hills, 

For  mountain,  loch,  and  glen — 
For  those  who  haply  lay  at  rest 

Beyond  the  distant  sea, 
Beneath  the  green  and  daisied  turf 

Where  they  would  gladly  be ! 

XII. 

Long  years  went  by.     The  lonely  isle 
In  Hhine's  impetuous  flood 

I 


130  THE    ISLAND    OF   THE    SCOTS 

Has  ta'en  another  name  from  those 

Who  boucrht  it  with  their  blood  : 
And  though  the  legend  does  not  live, 

For  legends  lightly  die, 
The  peasant,  as  he  sees  the  stream 

In  winter  rolling  by, 
And  foaming  o'er  its  channel-bed 

Between  him  and  the  spot 
Won  by  the  warriors  of  the  sword, 
Still  calls  that  deep  and  dangerous  ford 

The  Passage  of  the  Scot. 


CHARLES  EDWARD  AT  VERSAILLES 

Though  the  sceptre  had  departed  from  the  House  of 
Stuart,  it  was  reserved  for  one  of  its  last  descendants 
to  prove  to  the  world,  by  his  personal  gallantry  and 
noble  spirit  of  enterprise,  that  he  at  least  had  not 
degenerated  from  his  royal  line  of  ancestors.  The 
daring  effort  of  Charles  Edward  to  recover  the  crown 
of  these  kingdoms  for  his  father,  is  to  us  the  most 
remarkable  incident  of  the  last  century.  It  was 
honourable  alike  to  the  Prince  and  to  those  who 
espoused  his  cause;  and,  even  in  a  political  point  of 
view,  the  outbreak  ought  not  to  be  deplored,  since  its 
failure  put  an  end  for  ever  to  the  dynastical  struggle 
which,  for  more  than  half  a  century,  had  agitated  the 
whole  of  Britain,  established  the  rule  of  law  and  of 
social  order  throughout  the  mountainous  districts  of 
Scotland,  and  blended  Celt  and  Saxon  into  one  pros- 
perous and  united  people.  It  was  better  that  the 
antiquated  system  of  clanship  should  have  expired  in 
a  blaze  of  glory,  than  gradually  dwindled  into  con- 
tempt ;  better  that  the  patriarchal  rule  should  at  once 
have  been  extinguished  by  the  dire  catastrophe  of 
Culloden,  than  that  it  should  have  lingered  on,   the 


132      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

shadow  of  an  old  tradition.  There  is  nothing  now  to 
prevent  us  from  dweUing  with  pride  and  admiration 
on  the  matchless  devotion  displayed  by  the  High- 
landers, in  1745,  in  behalf  of  the  heir  of  him  whom 
they  acknowledged  as  their  lawful  king.  No  feeling 
can  arise  to  repress  the  interest  and  the  sympathy 
which  is  excited  by  the  perusal  of  the  tale  narrating 
the  sufferings  of  the  princely  wanderer.  That  un- 
bought  loyalty  and  allegiance  of  the  heart,  which 
would  not  depart  from  its  constancy  until  the  tomb 
of  the  Vatican  had  closed  upon  tlie  last  of  the  Stuart 
line,  has  long  since  been  transferred  to  the  consti- 
tutional sovereign  of  these  realms ;  and  the  en- 
thusiastic welcome  which  has  so  often  greeted  the 
return  of  Queen  Victoria  to  her  Highland  home,  owes 
its  origin  to  a  deeper  feeling  than  that  dull  respect 
which  modern  liberalism  asserts  to  be  the  only  tribute 
due  to  the  first  magistrate  of  the  land. 

The  campaign  of  1745  yields  in  romantic  interest 
to  none  which  is  written  in  history.  A  young  and 
inexperienced  prince,  whose  person  was  utterly  un- 
known to  any  of  his  adherents,  landed  on  the  west 
coast  of  Scotland,  not  at  the  head  of  a  foreign  force, 
not  munimented  with  supplies  and  arms,  but  accom- 
panied by  a  mere  handful  of  followers,  and  ignorant 
of  the  language  of  the  people  amongst  whom  he  was 
hazarding  his  person.  His  presence  in  Scotland  had 
not  been  urged  by  the  chiefs  of  the  clans,  most  of  whom 
were   deeply   averse   to   embarking   in   an   enterprise 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES      133 

which  must  involve  them  in  a  war  with  so  powerful 
an  antagonist  as  England,  and  which,  if  unsuccessful, 
could  only  terminate  in  the  utter  ruin  of  their  fortunes. 
This  was  not  a  cause  in  which  the  whole  of  Scotland 
was  concerned.  Although  it  was  well  known  that 
many  leading  families  in  the  Lowlands  entertained 
Jacobite  opinions,  and  although  a  large  proportion  of 
the  common  people  had  not  yet  become  reconciled  to, 
or  satisfied  of,  the  advantages  of  the  Union,  by  which 
they  considered  themselves  dishonoured  and  betrayed, 
it  was  hardly  to  be  expected  that,  without  some  fair 
guarantee  for  success,  the  bulk  of  the  Scottish  nation 
would  actively  bestir  themselves  on  the  side  of  the 
exiled  family.  Besides  this,  even  amongst  the  High- 
landers there  was  not  unanimity  of  opinion.  The 
three  northern  clans  of  Sutherland,  Mackay,  and 
Monro,  were  known  to  be  staunch  supporters  of  the 
Government.  It  was  doubtful  what  part  might  be 
taken  in  the  struggle  by  those  of  Mackenzie  and  Eoss. 
The  chiefs  of  Skye,  who  could  have  brought  a  large 
force  of  armed  men  into  the  field,  had  declined  parti- 
cipating in  the  attempt.  The  assistance  of  Lord  Lovat, 
upon  whom  the  co-operation  of  the  Erasers  might 
depend,  could  not  be  calculated  on  with  certainty ; 
and  nothing  but  hostility  could  be  expected  from  the 
powerful  sept  of  tlie  Campbells.  Lender  such  circum- 
stances, it  is  little  wonder  if  Cameron  of  Locheill, 
the  most  sagacious  of  all  the  chieftains  who  favoured 
the  Stuart  cause,  was  struck  with  consternation  and 


134-      CHARLES   EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

alarm  at  the  news  of  the  Prince's  landing,  or  that  he 
attempted  to  persuade  him  from  undertaking  an  ad- 
venture so  seemingly  hopeless.  Mr.  Eobert  Chambers, 
in  his  admirable  history  of  that  period,  does  not  in  the 
least  exaggerate  the  imj^ortance  of  the  interview,  on 
the  result  of  which  the  prosecution  of  the  war  depended. 
"  On  arriving  at  Borrodale,  Locheill  had  a  private 
interview  with  the  Prince,  in  which  the  probabilities 
of  the  enterprise  were  anxiously  debated.  Charles 
used  every  argument  to  excite  tlie  loyalty  of  Locheill, 
and  the  chief  exerted  all  his  eloquence  to  persuade  the 
Prince  to  withdraw  till  a  better  opportunity.  Charles 
represented  the  present  as  the  best  possible  opportu- 
nity, seeing  that  the  French  general  kept  the  British 
army  completely  engaged  abroad,  while  at  home  there 
were  no  troops  but  one  or  two  newly-raised  regiments. 
He  expressed  his  confidence  that  a  small  body  of 
Highlanders  would  be  sufficient  to  gain  a  victory  over 
all  the  force  that  could  now  be  brought  against  him  ; 
and  he  was  equally  sure  that  such  an  advantage  was 
all  that  was  required  to  make  his  friends  at  home 
declare  in  his  favour,  and  cause  those  abroad  to  send 
him  assistance.  All  he  wanted  was  that  the  High- 
landers should  begin  the  war.  Locheill  still  resisted, 
entreating  Charles  to  be  more  temperate,  and  consent 
to  remain  concealed  wliere  he  was,  till  his  friends  should 
meet  together  and  concert  what  was  best  to  be  done. 
Charles,  whose  mind  was  wound  up  to  the  utmost 
pitch  of  impatience,  j)aid  no  regard  to  this  proposal, 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES      135 

hut  answered  that  he  was  determined  to  put  all  to  the 
hazard.  '  In  a  few  days/  said  he,  '  with  the  few  friends 
I  have,  I  will  raise  the  royal  standard,  and  proclaim 
to  the  people  of  Britain  that  Charles  Stuart  is  come 
over  to  claim  the  crown  of  his  ancestors — to  win  it,  or 
to  perish  in  the  attempt !  Locheill — who,  my  father 
has  often  told  me,  was  our  firmest  friend — may  stay  at 
home,  and  learn  from  the  newspapers  the  fate  of  his 
Prince  ! '  *  No  ! '  said  Locheill,  stung  by  so  poignant 
a  reproach,  and  hurried  away  by  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  moment ;  '  I  will  share  the  fate  of  my  Prince,  and 
so  shall  every  man  over  whom  nature  or  fortune  has 
given  me  any  power.'  Such  was  the  juncture  upon 
which  depended  the  civil  war  of  1745;  for  it  is  a  point 
agreed,  says  Mr.  Home,  who  narrates  this  conversation, 
that  if  Locheill  had  persisted  in  his  refusal  to  take 
arms,  no  other  chief  would  have  joined  the  standard, 
and  the  spark  of  rebellion  must  have  been  instantly 
extinguished."  Not  more  than  twelve  hundred  men 
were  assembled  in  Glenfinnan  on  the  day  when  the 
standard  was  unfurled  by  the  Marquis  of  Tullibardine, 
and,  at  the  head  of  this  mere  handful  of  followers, 
Charles  Edward  commenced  the  stupendous  enterprise 
of  reconquering  the  dominions  of  his  fathers. 

With  a  force  which,  at  the  l)attle  of  Preston,  did 
not  double  the  above  numbers,  the  Prince  descended 
upon  the  Lowlands,  having  battled  the  attempts  of 
General  Cope  to  intercept  his  march — occupied  the 
city  of  Perth  and  the  town  of  Dundee,  and  finally, 


136      CHARLES   EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

after  a  faint  show  of  resistance  on  the  part  of  the 
burghers,  took  possession  of  the  ancient  capital  of 
Scotland,  and  once  more  established  a  court  in  the 
halls  of  Holyrood.  His  youth,  his  gallantry,  and  the 
grace  and  beauty  of  his  person,  added  to  a  most 
winning  and  affable  address,  acquired  for  him  the 
sympathy  of  many  who,  from  political  motives,  ab- 
stained from  becoming  his  adherents.  Possibly  certain 
feelings  of  nationality,  which  no  deliberate  views  of 
civil  or  religious  policy  could  altogether  extirpate, 
led  such  men  to  regard,  with  a  sensation  akin  to  pride, 
the  spectacle  of  a  prince  descended  from  the  long  line 
of  Scottish  kings,  again  occupying  his  ancestral  seat, 
and  restoring  to  their  country,  which  had  been  utterly 
neglected  by  the  new  dynasty,  a  portion  of  its  former 
state.  No  doubt  a  sense  of  pity  for  the  probable  fate 
of  one  so  young  and  chivalrous  was  often  present 
to  their  minds,  for  they  had  thorough  confidence  in 
the  intrepidity  of  the  regular  troops,  and  in  the 
capacity  of  their  commander;  and  they  never  for  a 
moment  supposed  that  these  could  be  successfully 
encountered  by  a  raw  levy  of  undisciplined  High- 
landers, ill-armed  and  worse  equipped,  and  without 
the  support  of  any  artillery. 

The  issue  of  the  battle  of  Prestonpans  struck  Edin- 
V)urgh  with  amazement.  In  point  of  numbers  the  two 
armies  were  nearly  equal,  but  in  every  thing  else, 
save  personal  valour,  the  royal  troops  had  the  advan- 
tage.    And  yet,  in  four  minutes — for  the  battle  is  said 


CHARLES   EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES      137 

not  to  have  lasted  longer — the  Highlanders  having 
only  made  one  terrific  and  impetuous  charge — the 
rout  of  the  regulars  was  general.  The  infantry  was 
broken  and  cut  to  pieces  ;  the  dragoons,  who  behaved 
shamefully  on  the  occasion,  turned  bridle  and  fled, 
without  having  once  crossed  swords  with  the  enemy. 
Mr.  Chambers  thus  terminates  his  account  of  the 
action:  "The  general  result  of  the  battle  of  Preston 
raay  be  stated  as  having  been  the  total  overthrow  and 
almost  entire  destruction  of  the  royal  army.  Most  of 
the  infantry,  falling  upon  the  park  walls  of  Preston, 
were  there  huddled  together,  without  the  power  of 
resistance,  into  a  confused  drove,  and  liad  either  to 
surrender  or  to  l^e  cut  to  pieces.  Many,  in  vainly 
attempting  to  climb  over  the  walls,  fell  an  easy  prey 
to  the  ruthless  claymore.  Nearly  400,  it  is  said,  were 
thus  slain,  700  taken,  while  only  about  170  in  all 
succeeded  in  effecting  their  escape. 

"The  dragoons,  with  worse  conduct,  were  much 
more  fortunate.  In  falling  back,  they  had  the  good 
luck  to  find  outlets  from  their  respective  positions  by 
the  roads  which  ran  along  the  various  extremities  of 
the  park  wall,  and  they  thus  got  clear  through  the 
village  with  little  slaughter ;  after  which,  as  the  High- 
landers had  no  horse  to  pursue  tiiem,  they  were  safe. 
Several  officers,  among  whom  were  Fowkes  and  Lascelles, 
escaped  to  Cockenzie  and  along  Seton  Sands,  in  a 
direction  contrary  to  the  general  flight. 

"The  unfortunate  Cope  had  attempted,  at  the  first; 


138      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

break  of  Gardiner's  dragoons,  to  stop  and  rally  them, 
but  was  borne  headlong,  with  the  confused  bands, 
through  the  narrow  road  to  the  south  of  the  enclosures, 
notwithstanding  all  his  efforts  to  the  contrary.  On 
getting  beyond  the  village,  where  he  was  joined  by 
the  retreating  bands  of  the  other  regiment,  he  made 
one  anxious  effort,  with  the  Earls  of  Loudoun  and 
Home,  to  form  and  bring  them  back  to  charge  the 
enemy,  now  disordered  by  the  pursuit;  but  in  vain. 
They  fled  on,  ducking  their  heads  along  their  horses' 
necks  to  escape  the  bullets  which  the  pursuers  occa- 
sionally sent  after  them.  By  using  great  exertions, 
and  holding  pistols  to  the  heads  of  the  troopers,  Sir 
John  and  a  few  of  his  officers  induced  a  small  number 
of  them  to  halt  in  a  field  near  St.  Clement's  Wells, 
about  two  miles  from  the  battle-ground.  But,  after 
a  momentary  delay,  the  accidental  firing  of  a  pistol 
renewed  the  panic,  and  they  rode  off  once  more  in 
great  disorder.  Sir  John  Cope,  with  a  portion  of 
them,  reached  Channelkirk  at  an  early  hour  in  the 
forenoon,  and  there  halted  to  breakfast,  and  to  write 
a  brief  note  to  one  of  the  state-officers,  relating  the 
fate  of  the  day.  He  then  resumed  his  flight,  and 
reached  Coldstream  that  night.  Next  morning  he 
proceeded  to  Berwick,  whose  fortifications  seemed 
competent  to  give  the  security  he  required.  He  every- 
where brought  the  first  tidings  of  his  own  defeat." 

This  victory  operated  very  much  in  favour  of  Prince 
Charles.     It  secured  him,  for  a  season,  the  undisputed 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES      139 

possession  of  Scotland,  and  enabled  numerous  adherents 
from  all  parts  of  the  country  to  raise  such  forces  as 
they  could  command,  and  to  repair  to  his  banner. 
His  popularity  in  Edinburgh  daily  increased,  as  the 
qualities  of  his  person  and  mind  became  known ; 
and  such  testimony  as  the  following,  with  respect  to 
his  estimation  by  the  fair  sex,  and  the  devotion  they 
exhibited  in  his  cause,  is  not  overcharsred.  "  His 
affability  and  great  personal  grace  wrought  him  high 
favour  with  the  ladies,  who,  as  we  learn  from  the 
letters  of  President  Forbes,  became  generally  so 
zealous  in  his  cause,  as  to  have  some  serious  effect  in 
inducing  their  admirers  to  declare  for  the  Prince. 
There  was,  we  know  for  certain,  a  Miss  Lumsden, 
who  plainly  told  her  lover,  a  young  artist,  named 
Piobert  Strange,  that  he  might  think  no  more  of  her 
unless  he  should  immediately  join  Prince  Charles,  and 
thus  actually  prevailed  upon  him  to  take  up  arms.  It 
may  be  added  that  he  survived  the  enterprise,  escaped 
with  great  difficulty,  and  married  the  lady.  He  was 
afterwards  the  best  line -engraver  of  his  time,  and 
received  the  honour  of  knighthood  from  George  III. 
White  ribbons  and  breastknots  became  at  this  time 
conspicuous  articles  of  female  attire  in  private  as- 
semblies. The  ladies  also  showed  considerable  zeal 
in  contributing  plate  and  other  articles  for  the  use  of 
the  Chevalier  at  the  palace,  tmd  iu  raising  pecuniary 
subsidies  for  him.  Many  a  posset-dish  and  snufi'-box, 
many  a  treasured  necklace  and  repeater,  many  a  jewel 


140      CHARLES   EDWARD  AT  VERSAILLES 

whicli  had  adorned  its  successive  generations  of  family 
beauties,  was  at  this  time  sold  or  laid  in  pledge, 
to  raise  a  little  money  for  the  service  of  Prince 
Charlie." 

As  to  the  motives  and  intended  policy  of  this 
remarkable  and  unfortunate  young  man,  it  may  be 
interesting  to  quote  the  terms  of  the  proclamation 
which  he  issued  on  the  10th  October,  1745,  before 
commencing  his  march  into  England.  Let  his  history 
be  impartially  read,  his  character,  as  spoken  to  by 
those  who  knew  him  best,  fairly  noted,  and  I  think 
there  cannot  be  a  doubt  tliat,  had  he  succeeded  in  his 
daring  attempt,  he  would  have  been  true  to  the  letter 
of  his  word,  and  fulfilled  a  pledge  which  Britain  never 
more  required  than  at  the  period  when  that  document 
was  penned : — 

"Do  not  the  pulpits  and  congregations  of  the 
clergy,  as  well  as  your  weekly  papers,  ring  with  the 
dreadful  threats  of  popery,  slavery,  tyranny,  and 
arbitrary  power,  which  are  now  ready  to  be  imposed 
upon  you  by  the  formidable  powers  of  France  and 
Spain  ?  Is  not  my  royal  father  represented  as  a 
bloodthirsty  tyrant,  breatliing  out  nothing  but  de- 
struction to  all  who  will  not  immediately  embrace 
an  odious  religion  ?  Or  have  I  myself  been  better 
used  ?      ?>ut  listen  only  to  the  naked  truth. 

"  I,  with  my  own  money,  hired  a  small  vessel.  Ill- 
supplied  with  money,  arms,  or  friends,  I  arrived  in 
Scotland,  attended  by  seven  persons.      I  publish  the 


CHARLES    EDWARD    AT    VERSAILLES      141 

King  my  father's  declaration,  and  proclaim  his  title, 
with  pardon  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  liberty  of 
conscience,  and  the  most  solemn  promises  to  grant 
whatever  a  free  Parliament  shall  propose  for  the  hap- 
piness of  a  people.  I  have,  I  confess,  the  greatest 
reason  to  adore  the  goodness  of  Almighty  God,  who 
has  in  so  remarkable  a  manner  protected  me  and  my 
small  army  through  the  many  dangers  to  which  we 
were  at  first  exposed,  and  who  has  led  me  in  the  way 
to  victory,  and  to  the  capital  of  this  ancient  kingdom, 
amidst  the  acclamations  of  the  King  my  father's 
subjects.  Why,  then,  is  so  much  pains  taken  to  spirit 
up  the  minds  of  the  people  against  this  my  under- 
taking ? 

"  The  reason  is  obvious ;  it  is,  lest  the  real  sense  of 
the  nation's  present  sufferings  should  blot  out  the 
remembrance  of  past  misfortunes,  and  of  the  outcries 
formerly  raised  against  the  royal  family.  Whatever 
miscarriages  might  have  given  occasion  to  them,  they 
have  been  more  than  atoned  for  since ;  and  the  nation 
has  now  an  opportunity  of  being  secured  against  the 
like  in  future. 

"That  our  family  has  suffered  exile  during  these 
fifty-seven  years  everybody  knows.  Has  the  nation, 
during  that  period  of  time,  been  the  more  happy  and 
flourishing  for  it  ?  Have  you  found  reason  to  love 
and  cherish  your  governors  as  the  fathers  of  the 
people  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland?  Has  a  family, 
upon  whom  a  faction  unlawfully  bestowed  the  diadem 


142      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

of  a  rightful  prince,  retained  a  due  sense  of  so  great  a 
trust  and  favour  ?  Have  you  found  more  humanity 
and  condescension  in  those  who  were  not  born  to  a 
crown,  than  in  my  royal  forefathers  ?  Have  their 
ears  been  open  to  the  cries  of  the  people  ?  Have 
they,  or  do  they  consider  only  the  interests  of  these 
nations  ?  Have  you  reaped  any  other  benefit  from 
them  than  an  immense  load  of  debt  ?  If  I  am 
answered  in  the  affirmative,  why  has  their  govern- 
ment been  so  often  railed  at  in  all  your  public  assem- 
blies ?  Why  has  the  nation  been  so  long  crying  out 
in  vain  for  redress  against  the  abuse  of  Parliaments, 
upon  account  of  their  long  duration,  the  multitude  of 
placemen,  which  occasions  their  venality,  the  introduc- 
tion 01  penal  laws,  and,  in  general,  against  the 
miserable  situation  of  the  kingdom  at  home  and 
abroad  ?  All  these,  and  many  more  inconveniences, 
must  now  be  removed,  unless  the  people  of  Great 
Britain  be  already  so  far  corrupted  that  they  will  not 
accept  of  freedom  when  offered  to  them,  seeing  the 
King,  on  his  restoration,  will  refuse  nothing  that  a  free 
Parliament  can  ask  for  the  security  of  the  religion, 
laws,  and  liberty  of  his  people. 

"  It  is  now  time  to  conclude ;  and  I  shall  do  it  with 
this  reflection.  Civil  wars  are  ever  attended  with 
rancour  and  ill-will,  which  party  rage  never  fails  to 
produce  in  the  minds  of  those  whom  different  interests, 
principles  or  views,  set  in  opposition  to  one  another. 
I,  therefore,  earnestly  require  it  of  my  friends  to  give 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       143 

as  little  loose  as  possible  to  such  passions  :  this  will 
prove  the  most  effectual  means  to  prevent  the  same 
in  the  enemies  of  my  royal  cause.  And  this  my 
declaration  will  vindicate  to  all  posterity  the  noble- 
ness of  my  undertaking,  and  the  generosity  of  my 
intentions." 

There  was  much  truth  in  the  open  charges  preferred 
in  this  declaration  against  the  existing  government. 
The  sovereigns  of  the  house  of  Hanover  had  always 
shown  a  marked  predilection  for  their  Continental 
possessions,  and  had  proportionally  neglected  the 
affairs  of  Britain.  Under  Walpole's  administration 
the  imperial  Parliament  had  degenerated  from  an 
independent  assembly  to  a  junta  of  placemen,  and  the 
most  flagitious  system  of  bribery  was  openly  practised 
and  avowed.  It  was  not  without  reason  that  Charles 
contrasted  the  state  of  the  nation  then,  with  its 
position  when  under  the  rule  of  the  legitimate  family  ; 
and  had  there  not  been  a  strong,  though,  I  think, 
unreasonable  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  many,  that  his 
success  would  be  the  prelude  to  a  vigorous  attack 
upon  the  established  religions  of  the  country,  and  that 
he  would  be  inclined  to  follow  out  in  this  respect  the 
fatal  policy  of  his  grandfather,  Charles  would  in  all 
probability  have  received  a  more  active  and  general 
support  than  was  accorded  to  him.  The  zeal  with 
which  the  Episcopalian  party  in  Scotland  espoused 
his  cause,  naturally  gave  rise  to  the  idea  that  the 
attempt  of  the  Prince  was  of  evil  omen  to  Presbytery  ; 


144      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

and  the  settlement  of  the  Church  upon  its  present 
footing  was  yet  so  recent,  that  the  sores  of  the  old 
feud  were  still  festering  and  green.  The  established 
clergy,  therefore,  were,  nearly  to  a  man,  opposed  to  his 
pretensions ;  and  one  minister  of  Edinburgh,  at  the 
time  when  the  Highland  host  was  in  possession  of  the 
city,  had  the  courage  to  conclude  his  prayer  nearly  in 
the  following  terms — "  Bless  the  king ;  Thou  knows 
what  king  I  mean — may  his  crown  long  sit  easy  on 
his  head.  And  as  to  this  young  man  who  has  come 
among  us  to  seek  an  earthly  crown,  we  beseech  Thee 
in  mercy  to  take  him  to  Tliyself,  and  give  him  a  crown 
of  glory ! "  At  the  same  time,  it  is  very  curious  to 
observe,  that  the  most  violent  sect  of  Presbyterians, 
who  might  be  considered  as  the  representatives  of  the 
extreme  Cameronian  principle,  and  who  had  early 
seceded  from  the  Church,  and  bitterly  opposed  the 
union  of  the  kingdoms,  were  not  indisposed,  on  certain 
terms,  to  coalesce  with  the  Jacobites.  It  is  hardly 
possible  to  understand  the  motives  which  actuated 
these  men,  who  appear  to  have  regarded  each 
successive  government  as  equally  obnoxious.  Some 
writers  go  the  length  of  averring  that,  in  1688,  a 
negociation  was  opened  by  one  section  of  the 
Covenanters  with  Lord  Dundee,  with  the  object  of 
resistance  to  the  usurpation  of  William  of  Orange, 
and  that  the  project  was  frustrated  only  by  the  death 
of  that  heroic  nobleman.  Sir  Walter  Scott — a  great 
authority — seems  to  have  been  convinced  that  sucli 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       145 

was  the  case;  but,  in  the  absence  of  direct  proof,  I 
can  hardly  credit  it.  It  is  perfectly  well  known  that 
a  conspiracy  was  formed  by  a  certain  section  of  the 
Cameronian  party  to  assassinate  Lords  Dundee  and 
Dunfermline  whilst  in  attendance  at  the  meeting  of 
Estates;  and,  although  the  recognition  of  William  as 
king  might  not  have  been  palatable  to  others  who 
held  the  same  opinions,  it  would  be  a  strange  thing 
if  they  had  so  suddenly  resolved  to  assist  Dundee 
in  his  efforts  for  the  exiled  family.  But  the  political 
changes  in  Scotland,  more  especially  the  union,  seem 
to  have  inspired  some  of  these  men  with  a  spirit  of 
disaffection  to  the  government;  for,  according  to 
Mr.  Chambers,  the  most  rigid  sect  of  Presbyterians 
had,  since  the  revolution,  expressed  a  strong  desire 
to  coalesce  with  the  Jacobites,  with  the  hope,  in  case 
the  house  of  Stuart  were  restored,  to  obtain  what 
they  called  a  covenanted  king.  Of  this  sect  one 
thousand  had  assembled  in  Dumfriesshire  at  the  first 
intelligence  of  the  insurrection,  bearing  arms  and 
colours,  and  supposed  to  contemplate  a  junction  with 
the  Chevalier.  But  these  religionists  were  now  almost 
as  violently  distinct  from  the  Established  Church 
of  Scotland  as  ever  they  had  been  from  those  of 
England  and  Eome,  and  had  long  ceased  to  play  a 
prominent  part  in  the  national  disputes.  The  Established 
clergy,  and  the  greater  part  of  their  congregations, 
were  averse  to  Charles  upon  considerations  perfectly 
moderate,  at  the  same  time  not  easy  to  be  shaken. 

K 


146      CHARLES   EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

On  commencing  his  march  into  England,  Charles 
fonnd  himself  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  between  five 
thousand  and  six  thousand  men,  which  force  was 
considered  strong  enough,  with  the  augmentations  it 
might  receive  on  the  way,  to  effect  tlie  occupation 
of  London.  Had  the  English  Jacobites  performed 
their  part  with  the  same  zeal  as  the  Scots,  it  is 
more  than  probable  that  the  attempt  would  have  been 
crowned  with  success.  As  it  was,  the  Prince  succeeded 
in  reducing  the  strong  fortified  town  of  Carlisle,  and 
in  marching,  without  opposition,  through  tlie  heart 
of  England,  as  far  as  Derby,  within  one  hundred 
miles  of  the  metropolis.  But  here  his  better  genius 
deserted  him.  Discord  had  crept  into  his  councils ; 
for  some  of  the  chiefs  became  seriously  alarmed  at 
finding  that  the  gentry  of  England  were  not  prepared 
to  join  the  expedition,  but  preferred  remaining  at 
home  inactive  spectatoi's  of  the  contest.  Except  at 
Manchester,  they  had  received  few  or  no  recruits. 
No  tidings  had  reached  them  from  Wales,  a  country 
supposed  to  be  devoted  to  the  cause  of  King  James, 
whilst  it  was  well  known  that  a  large  force  was 
already  in  arms  to  oppose  the  clans.  Mr.  Chambers 
gives  us  the  following  details.  "At  a  council  of  war 
held  on  the  morning  of  the  5th  December,  Lord 
George  Murray  and  the  other  members  gave  it  as 
their  unanimous  opinion  that  the  army  ought  to 
return  to  Scotland.  Lord  George  pointed  out  that 
they  were  about   to   be   environed   by   three   armies, 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       147 

amounting  collectively  to  about  thirty  thousand  men, 
while  their  own  forces  were  not  above  five  thousand, 
if  so  many.  Supposing  an  unsuccessful  engagement 
with  any  of  these  armies,  it  could  not  be  expected 
that  one  man  would  escape,  for  the  militia  would 
beset  every  road.  The  Prince,  if  not  slain  in  the  battle, 
must  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands:  the  whole  world 
would  blame  them  as  fools  for  running  into  such  a 
risk.  Ciiarles  answered,  that  he  regarded  not  his 
own  danger.  He  pressed,  with  all  the  force  of  argu- 
ment, to  go  forward.  He  did  not  doubt,  he  said, 
that  the  justice  of  his  cause  would  prevail.  He 
was  hopeful  that  there  might  be  a  defection  in  the 
enemy's  army,  and  that  many  would  declare  for 
him.  He  was  so  very  bent  on  putting  all  to  the 
risk,  that  the  Duke  of  Perth  was  for  it,  since  his 
lioyal  Highness  was.  At  last  he  proposed  going 
to  Wales  instead  of  returning  to  Carlisle ;  but  every 
other  officer  declared  his  opinion  for  a  retreat.  These 
are  nearly  the  words  of  Lord  George  Murray.  We 
are  elsewhere  told  that  the  Prince  condescended  to 
use  entreaties  to  induce  his  adherents  to  alter  their 
resolution.  '  Eather  than  go  back,'  he  said,  '  I  would 
wish  to  be  twenty  feet  under  ground ! '  His  chagrin, 
when  he  found  his  councillors  obdurate,  was  beyond 
all  bounds.  The  council  broke  up,  on  the  under- 
standing that  the  retreat  was  to  commence  next 
morning.  Lord  George  volunteering  to  take  the  place 
of  honour  in  the  rear,  provided  only  that  he  should 
not  be  troubled  with  the  baggage." 


148       CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

This  resolution  was  received  by  the  army  with 
marks  of  unequivocal  vexation.  Eetreat,  in  their 
estimation,  was  little  less  than  overthrow ;  and  it 
was  most  galling  to  find  that,  after  all  their  labours, 
hazards,  and  toils,  they  were  doomed  to  disappointment 
at  the  very  moment  when  the  prize  seemed  ready  for 
their  grasp.  That  the  movement  was  an  injudicious 
one  is,  I  think,  obvious.  We  are  told,  upon  good 
authority,  "  that  the  very  boldness  of  the  Prince's 
onward  movement,  especially  taken  into  connexion 
with  the  expected  descent  from  France,  had  at 
length  disposed  the  English  Jacobites  to  come  out ; 
and  many  were  just  on  the  point  of  declaring 
themselves,  and  marching  to  join  his  army,  when 
the  retreat  from  Derby  was  determined  on.  A  Mr. 
Barry  arrived  in  Derby  two  days  after  the  Prince 
left  it,  with  a  message  from  Sir  Watkin  William 
Wynne  and  Lord  Barrymore,  to  assure  him,  in  the 
names  of  many  friends  of  the  cause,  that  they  were 
ready  to  join  him  in  what  manner  he  pleased,  either 
in  the  capital,  or  every  one  to  rise  in  his  own  county, 
I  have  likewise  been  assured  that  many  of  the  Welsh 
gentry  had  actually  left  their  homes,  and  were  on 
the  way  to  join  Charles,  when  intelligence  of  his 
retreat  at  once  sent  them  all  back  peaceably,  convinced 
that  it  was  now  too  late  to  contribute  their  assistance. 
These  men,  from  the  power  they  had  over  their  tenantry, 
could  have  added  materially  to  his  military  force.  In 
fact,  from  all  that  appears,  we  must  conclude   that 


CHARLES   EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       149 

the  insurgents  had  a  very  considerable  chance  of 
success  from  an  onward  movement — also,  no  doubt, 
a  chance  of  destruction,  and  yet  not  worse  than  what 
ultimately  befell  many  of  them — while  a  retreat  broke 
in  a  moment  the  spell  which  their  gallantry  had 
conjured  up,  and  gave  the  enemy  a  great  advantage 
over  them." 

One  victory  more  was  accorded  to  Prince  Charles, 
before  his  final  overthrow.  After  successfully  con- 
ducting his  retreat  to  Scotland,  occupying  Glasgow, 
and  strengthening  his  army  by  the  accession  of  new 
recruits,  he  gave  battle  to  the  royal  forces  under 
General  Hawley  at  Falkirk,  and,  as  at  Preston, 
drove  them  from  the  field.  The  parties  were  on 
this  occasion  fairly  matched,  there  being  about  eight 
thousand  men  engaged  on  either  side.  The  action 
was  short ;  and,  though  not  so  decisive  as  the  former 
one,  gave  great  confidence  to  the  insurgents.  It  has 
been  thus  picturesquely  portrayed  by  the  historian 
of  the  enterprise :  "  Some  individuals,  who  beheld 
the  battle  from  the  steeple  of  Falkirk,  used  to 
describe  these,  its  main  events,  as  occupying  a 
surprisingly  brief  space  of  time.  They  first  saw 
the  English  army  enter  the  misty  and  storm-covered 
muir  at  the  top  of  the  hill ;  then  saw  the  dull 
atmosphere  thickened  by  a  fast-rolling  smoke,  and 
heard  the  pealing  sounds  of  the  discharge;  immediately 
after,  they  beheld  the  discomfited  troops  burst  wildly 
from  the  cloud  in  which  they  had  been  involved,  and 


I50      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

rush,  in  far-spread  disorder,  over  the  face  of  the  hill. 
From  the  commencement  of  what  they  styled  '  the 
hreak  of  the  battle,'  there  did  not  intervene  more 
than  ten  minutes — so  soon  may  an  efficient  body 
of  men  become,  by  one  transient  emotion  of  cowardice, 
a  feeble  and  contemptible  rabble. 

"  The  rout  would  have  been  total,  but  for  the  three 
out-flanking  regiments.  These  not  having  been  opposed 
by  any  of  the  clans,  having  a  ravine  in  front,  and 
deriving  some  support  from  a  small  body  of  dragoons, 
stood  their  ground  under  the  command  of  General 
Huske  and  Brigadier  Cholmondley.  When  the  High- 
landers went  past  in  pursuit,  they  received  a  volley 
from  this  part  of  the  English  army,  which  brought 
them  to  a  pause,  and  caused  them  to  draw  back  to 
their  former  ground,  their  impression  being  that  some 
ambuscade  was  intended.  This  saved  the  English 
army  from  destruction.  A  pause  took  place,  during 
which  the  bulk  of  the  English  infantry  got  back 
to  Ealkirk.  It  was  not  until  Lord  George  Murray 
brought  up  the  second  line  of  his  wing  and  the 
pickets,  with  some  others  on  the  other  wing,  that 
General  Huske  drew  off  his  party,  which  he  did  in 
good  order." 

The  seat  of  war  was  now  removed  to  the  North. 
The  month  of  April,  174G,  found  Prince  Charles  in 
possession  of  Inverness,  with  an  army  sorely  dwindled 
in  numbers,  and  in  great  want  of  necessaries  and 
provisions.     Many  of  the  Highlanders  had  retired  for 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       151 

the  winter  to  their  native  glens,  and  had  not  yet 
rejoined  the  standard.  The  Duke  of  Cumberland, 
who  now  commanded  the  English  army,  with  a 
reputation  not  diminished  by  the  unfortunate  issue 
of  Fontenoy,  was  at  the  head  of  a  large  body  of 
tried  and  disciplined  troops,  in  the  best  condition,  and 
supported  by  the  powerful  arm  of  artillery.  He 
effected  the  passage  of  the  Spey,  a  large  and  rapid 
river  which  intersects  the  Highlands,  without  en- 
countering any  opposition,  and  on  the  loth  of  the 
month  had  arrived  at  Nairn,  about  nine  miles  distant 
from  the  position  occupied  by  his  kinsman  and 
opponent.  His  superiority  in  point  of  strength  was 
so  great  that  the  boldest  of  the  insurgent  chiefs 
hesitated  as  to  the  policy  of  giving  immediate  battle, 
and  nothing  but  the  desire  of  covering  Inverness 
prevented  the  council  from  recommencing  a  further 
retreat  into  the  mountains,  where  they  could  not 
have  been  easily  followed,  and  where  they  were  certain 
to  have  met  with  reinforcements.  As  to  the  Prince, 
his  confidence  in  the  prowess  of  the  Highlanders  was 
so  unbounded,  that,  even  with  such  odds  against  him, 
he  would  not  listen  to  a  proposal  for  delay. 

There  yet  remained,  says  Mr.  Chambers,  before 
playing  the  great  stake  of  a  pitched  battle,  one 
chance  of  success  by  the  irregular  mode  of  warfare 
to  which  the  army  was  accustomed,  and  Charles 
resolved  to  put  it  to  trial.  This  was  a  night-attack 
upon   the   camp   of    the   Duke   of    Cumberland.     He 


152      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

rightly  argued  that  if  his  men  could  approach  without 
being  discovered,  and  make  a  simultaneous  attack  in 
more  than  one  place,  the  royal  forces,  then  probably 
either  engaged  in  drinking  their  commander's  health 
(the  15th  happened  to  be  the  anniversary  of  the 
Duke's  birthday,  and  was  celebrated  as  such  by  his 
army),  or  sleeping  off  the  effects  of  the  debauch,  must 
be  completely  surprised  and  cut  to  pieces,  or  at  least 
effectually  routed.  The  time  appointed  for  setting  out 
upon  the  march  was  eight  in  the  evening,  when  day- 
light should  have  completely  disappeared,  and,  in  the 
mean  time,  great  pains  were  taken  to  conceal  the 
secret  from  the  army. 

This  resolution  was  entered  into  at  three  in  the 
afternoon,  and  orders  were  given  to  collect  the  men 
who  had  gone  off  in  search  of  provisions.  The  officers 
dispersed  themselves  to  Inverness  and  other  places, 
and  besought  the  stragglers  to  repair  to  the  muir. 
But,  under  the  influence  of  hunger,  they  told  their 
commanders  to  shoot  them,  if  they  pleased,  rather 
than  compel  them  to  starve  any  longer.  Charles  had 
previously  declared,  with  his  characteristic  fervour, 
that  though  only  a  thousand  of  his  men  should 
accompany  him,  he  would  lead  them  on  to  the  attack, 
and  he  was  not  now  intimidated  when  he  saw  twice 
that  number  ready  to  assist  in  the  enterprise,  though 
some  of  his  officers .  would  willingly  have  made  this 
deficiency  of  troops  an  excuse  for  abandoning  what 
they  esteemed  at  best  a  hazardous  expedition.    Having 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT    VERSAILLES       153 

given  out  for  watchword  the  name  of  his  father,  he 
embraced  Lord  George  Murray,  who  was  to  command 
the  foremost  cohimu,  and,  putting  himself  at  the  head 
of  that  which  followed,  gave  the  order  to  march. 

The  attempt  proved  peculiarly  unfortunate,  and, 
from  the  fatigue  which  it  occasioned  to  the  Highlanders, 
contributed  in  a  great  degree  towards  the  disaster  of 
the  following  day.  The  night  chanced  to  be  uncom- 
monly dark,  and  as  it  was  well  known  that  Cumberland 
had  stationed  spies  on  the  principal  roads,  it  became 
necessary  to  select  a  devious  route,  in  order  to  effect 
a  surprise.  The  columns,  proceeding  over  broken 
and  irregular  ground,  soon  became  scattered  and 
dislocated :  no  exertions  of  the  officers  could  keep  the 
men  together,  so  that  Lord  George  Murray  at  two 
o'clock  found  that  he  was  still  distant  three  miles  from 
the  hostile  camp,  and  that  there  were  no  hopes  of  com- 
mencing the  attack  before  the  break  of  day,  when 
they  would  be  open  to  the  observation  of  the  enemy. 
Under  these  circumstances  a  retreat  was  commenced ; 
and  the  scheme,  which  at  one  time  seemed  to  hold  out 
every  probability  of  success,  was  abandoned. 

"  The  Highlanders  returned,  fatigued  and  discon- 
solate, to  their  former  position,  about  seven  in  the 
morning,  when  they  immediately  addressed  themselves 
to  sleep,  or  went  away  in  search  of  provisions.  So 
scarce  was  food  at  this  critical  juncture,  that  the  Prince 
himself,  on  retiring  to  Culloden  House,  could  obtain 
no  better  refreshment  than  a  little  bread  and  whisky. 


154      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

He  felt  the  utmost  anxiety  regarding  his  men,  among 
whom  the  pangs  of  hunger,  upon  bodies  exhausted  by 
fatigue,  must  have  been  working  effects  most  unpro- 
mising to  his  success ;  and  he  gave  orders,  before 
seeking  any  repose,  that  the  whole  country  should  now 
be  mercilessly  ransacked  for  the  means  of  refreshment. 
His  orders  were  not  without  effect.  Considerable 
supplies  were  procured,  and  subjected  to  the  cook's  art 
at  Inverness ;  but  the  poor  famished  clansmen  were 
destined  never  to  taste  these  provisions,  the  hour  of 
battle  arriving  before  they  were  prepared." 

About  eleven  in  the  forenoon,  the  troops  of  Cumber- 
land were  observed  upon  the  eastern  extremity  of  the 
wide  muir  of  Culloden,  and  preparations  were  instantly 
made  for  the  coming  battle.  The  array  had  been 
strengthened  that  morning  by  the  arrival  of  the 
Keppoch  Macdonalds  and  a  party  of  the  Erasers ;  but 
even  with  these  reinforcements  the  whole  available 
force  which  the  Prince  could  muster  was  about  five 
thousand  men,  to  oppose  at  fearful  odds  an  enemy 
twice  as  numerous,  and  heavily  supported  by  artillery. 
Fortune  on  this  day  seemed  to  have  deserted  the 
Prince  altogether.  In  drawing  out  the  line  of  battle, 
a  most  unlucky  arrangement  was  made  by  0' Sullivan, 
who  acted  as  adjutant,  whereby  the  Macdonald  regi- 
ments were  removed  from  the  right  wing — the  place 
which  the  great  clan  Colla  has  been  privileged  to 
hold  in  Scottish  array  ever  since  the  auspicious  battle 
of    Bannockburn.     To   those  who  are  not  acquainted 


CHARLES   EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       155 

with  the  peculiar  temper  and  spirit  of  the  Highlanders, 
and  their  punctilio  upon  points  of  honour  and  pre- 
cedence, the  question  of  arrangement  will  naturally 
appear  a  matter  of  little  importance.  But  it  was  not 
so  felt  by  the  Macdonalds,  who  considered  their  change 
of  position  as  a  positive  degradation,  and  who  further 
looked  upo]i  it  as  an  evil  omen  to  the  success  of  the 
battle.  The  results  of  this  mistake  will  be  explained 
immediately. 

Just  before  the  commencement  of  the  action,  the 
weather,  which  had  hitherto  been  fair  and  sunny, 
became  overcast,  and  a  heavy  blast  of  rain  and  sleet 
beat  directly  in  the  faces  of  the  Highlanders.  The 
English  artillery  then  began  to  play  upon  them,  and, 
being  admirably  served,  every  discharge  told  with 
fearful  effect  upon  the  ranks.  The  chief  object  of 
either  party  at  the  battle  of  Culloden  seems  to  have 
been  to  force  its  opponent  to  leave  his  position,  and  to 
commence  the  attack.  Cumberland,  finding  tliat  his 
artillery  was  doing  such  execution,  had  no  occasion  to 
move ;  and  Charles  appears  to  have  committed  a  great 
error  in  abandoning  a  mode  of  warfare  which  was 
peculiarly  suited  for  his  troops,  and  which,  on  two 
previous  occasions,  had  proved  eminently  successful. 
Had  he  at  once  ordered  a  general  charge,  and  attempted 
to  silence  the  guns,  the  issue  of  the  day  might  have 
been  otherwise :  but  his  unfortunate  star  prevailed. 

"  It  was  not,"  says  Mr.  Chambers,  "  till  the  can- 
nonade had  continued  nearly  half   an  hour,  and  the 


156      CHARLES   EDWARD   AT  VERSAILLES 

Highlanders  had  seen  many  of  their  kindred  stretched 
upon  the  heath,  that  Charles  at  last  gave  way  to  the 
necessity  of  ordering  a  charge.  The  aide-de-camp 
intrusted  to  carry  his  message  to  the  Lieutenant- 
general — a  youth  of  the  name  of  Maclachlan — was 
killed  by  a  cannon-hall  before  he  reached  the  first 
line,  but  the  general  sentiment  of  the  army,  as  re- 
ported to  Lord  George  Murray,  supplied  the  want,  and 
that  general  took  it  upon  him  to  order  an  attack  with- 
out Charles's  permission  having  been  communicated. 

"Lord  George  had  scarcely  determined  upon  order- 
ing a  general  movement,  when  the  IMacintoshes,  a 
brave  and  devoted  clan,  though  not  before  engaged 
in  action,  unable  any  longer  to  brook  the  unavenged 
slaughter  made  by  the  cannon,  broke  from  the  centre 
of  the  line,  and  rushed  forward  through  smoke  and 
snow  to  mingle  with  the  enemy.  The  Athole  men, 
Camerons,  Stuarts,  Erasers,  and  Macleans  also  went  on, 
Lord  George  Murray  heading  them  with  that  rash 
bravery  befitting  the  commander  of  such  forces.  Thus, 
in  the  course  of  one  or  two  minutes,  the  charge  was 
general  along  the  whole  line,  except  at  the  left  ex- 
tremity, where  the  Macdonalds,  dissatisfied  with  their 
position,  hesitated  to  engage. 

"  The  action  and  event  of  the  onset  were,  through- 
out, quite  as  dreadful  as  the  mental  emotion  which 
urged  it.  Notwithstanding;  that  the  three  files  of  the 
front  line  of  English  poured  forth  their  incessant  fire 
of  musketry — notwithstanding  that  the  cannon,  now 


CHARLES   EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       157 

loaded  with  grapeshot,  swept  the  field  as  with  a  hail- 
storm— notwithstanding  the  flank  fire  of  Wolfe's 
regiment — onward,  onward  went  the  headlong  High- 
landers, flinging  themselves  into,  rather  than  rushing 
upon,  the  lines  of  the  enemy,  which,  indeed,  they  did 
not  see  for  smoke,  till  involved  among  the  weapons. 
All  that  courage,  all  that  despair  could  do,  was  done. 
It  was  a  moment  of  dreadful  and  agonising  suspense, 
but  only  a  moment — for  the  whirlwind  does  not  reap 
the  forest  with  greater  rapidity  than  the  Highlanders 
cleared  the  line.  Nevertheless,  almost  every  man  in 
their  front  rank,  chief  and  gentleman,  fell  before  the 
deadly  weapons  which  they  had  braved ;  and,  although 
the  enemy  gave  way,  it  was  not  till  every  bayonet  was 
bent  and  bloody  with  the  strife. 

"  When  the  first  line  had  thus  been  swept  aside,  the 
assailants  continued  their  impetuous  advance  till  they 
came  near  the  second,  when,  being  almost  annihilated 
by  a  profuse  and  well-directed  fire,  the  shattered 
remains  of  what  had  been  before  a  numerous  and  con- 
fident force  began  to  give  way.  Still  a  few  rushed  on, 
resolved  rather  to  die  than  forfeit  their  well-acquired 
and  dearly-estimated  honour.  They  rushed  on;  but 
not  a  man  ever  came  in  contact  with  the  enemy.  The 
last  survivor  perished  as  he  reached  the  points  of  the 
bayonets." 

Some  idea  of  the  determination  displayed  by  the 
Highlanders  in  this  terrific  charge  may  be  gathered 
from  the  fact  that,  in  one  part  of  the  field,  their  bodies 


158      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

were  afterwards  found  in  layers  of  three  and  four 
deep.  The  slaughter  was  fearful,  for,  out  of  the  five 
regiments  which  charged  the  English,  almost  all  the 
leaders  and  men  in  the  front  rank  were  killed.  So 
shaken  was  the  English  line,  that,  had  the  Macdonald 
regiments,  well-known  to  yield  in  valour  to  none  of 
the  clans,  come  up,  the  fortune  of  the  day  might 
have  been  altered.  But  they  never  made  an  onset. 
Smarting  and  sullen  at  the  affront  which  they  con- 
ceived to  have  been  put  upon  their  name,  they  bore 
the  fire  of  the  English  regiments  without  flinching, 
and  gave  way  to  their  rage  by  hewing  at  the  heather 
with  their  swords.  In  vain  their  chiefs  exhorted  them 
to  go  forward :  even  at  that  terrible  moment  the  pride 
of  clanship  prevailed.  "  My  God  ! "  cried  Macdonald 
of  Keppoch,  "  has  it  come  to  this,  that  the  children  of 
my  tribe  have  forsaken  me ! "  and  he  rushed  forward 
alone,  sword  in  hand,  with  the  devotion  of  an  ancient 
hero,  and  fell  pierced  with  bullets. 

The  Lowland  and  foreign  troops  which  formed  the 
second  line  were  powerless  to  retrieve  the  disaster. 
All  was  over.  The  rout  became  general,  and  the 
Prince  was  forced  from  the  field,  which  he  would  not 
quit,  until  dragged  from  it  by  his  immediate  body- 
guard. 

Such  was  the  last  battle,  the  residt  of  civil  war, 
which  has  been  fought  on  British  soil.  Those  who 
were  defeated  have  acquired  as  mtich  glory  from  it 
as  the  conquerors — and  even  more,  for  never  was  a 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       159 

conquest  sullied  by  such  deeds  of  deliberate  cruelty  as 
were  perpetrated  upon  the  survivors  of  the  battle  of 
Culloden.  It  is  not,  however,  the  object  of  the  present 
paper  to  recount  these,  or  even  the  romantic  history 
or  hairbreadth  escapes  of  the  Prince,  whilst  wandering 
on  the  mainland  and  through  the  Hebrides.  Although 
a  reward  of  thirty  thousand  pounds — an  immense  sum 
for  the  period — was  set  upon  his  head — although  his 
secret  was  known  to  hundreds  of  persons  in  every  walk 
of  life,  and  even  to  the  beggar  and  the  outlaw — not  one 
attempted  to  betray  him.  Not  one  of  all  his  followers, 
in  the  midst  of  the  misery  which  overtook  them, 
regretted  having  drawn  the  sword  in  his  cause,  or 
would  not  again  have  gladly  imperilled  their  lives  for 
the  sake  of  their  beloved  Chevalier.  "He  went," 
says  Lord  Mahon,  "but  not  with  him  departed  his 
remembrance  from  the  Highlanders.  For  years  and 
years  did  his  name  continue  enshrined  in  their  hearts 
and  familiar  to  their  tongues,  their  plaintive  ditties 
resounding  with  his  exploits  and  inviting  his  return. 
Again,  in  these  strains,  do  they  declare  themselves 
ready  to  risk  life  and  fortune  for  his  cause ;  and  even 
maternal  fondness  —  the  strongest,  perhaps,  of  all 
human  feelings — yields  to  the  passionate  devotion  to 
Prince  Charlie." 

The  subsequent  life  of  the  Prince  is  a  story  of 
melancholy  interest.  We  find  him  at  first  received  in 
France  with  all  the  honours  duo  to  one  who,  though 
unfortunate,  had  exhibited  a  heroism  rarely  equalled 


i6o       CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

and  never  surpassed:  gradually  he  was  neglected  and 
slighted,  as  one  of  a  doomed  and  unhappy  race,  whom 
no  human  exertion  could  avail  to  elevate  to  their 
former  seat  of  power;  and  finally,  when  his  presence 
in  France  became  an  obstacle  to  the  conclusion  of 
peace,  he  was  violently  arrested  and  conveyed  out  of 
the  kingdom.  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  con- 
tinued misfortune  and  disappointment  had  begun  very 
early  to  mipair  his  noble  mind.  For  long  periods  he 
was  a  wanderer,  lost  sight  of  by  his  friends  and  even 
by  his  father  and  brother.  There  are  fragments  of 
his  writing  extant  which  show  how  poignantly  he  felt 
the  cruelty  of  his  fortune.  "  De  vivre  et  pas  vivre  est 
beaucoup  plus  que  de  mourir!"  And  again,  writing 
to  his  father's  secretary,  eight  years  after  Culloden,  he 
says — "I  am  grieved  that  our  master  should  think 
that  my  silence  was  either  neglect  or  want  of  duty; 
but,  in  reality,  my  situation  is  such  that  I  have  nothing 
to  say  but  imprecations  against  the  fatality  of  being 
born  in  such  a  detestable  age."  An  unhappy  and 
uncongenial  marriage  tended  still  more  to  embitter  his 
existence ;  and  if  at  last  he  yielded  to  frailties,  which 
inevitably  insure  degradation,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  his  lot  had  been  one  to  which  few  men  have  ever 
been  exposed,  and  the  magnitude  of  his  sufferings 
may  faii'ly  be  admitted  as  some  palliation  for  his 
weakness. 

To  the  last,  his  heart  was  with  Scotland.     The  fol- 
lowing anecdote  was  related  by  his  brother,  Cardinal 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       i6i 

York,  to  Bishop  Walker,  the  late  Primus  of  the 
Episcopal  Church  of  Scotland : — "  Mr.  Greathead,  a 
personal  friend  of  Mr.  Fox,  succeeded,  when  at  Home 
in  1782  or  1783,  in  obtaining  an  interview  with 
Charles  Edward;  and,  being  alone  with  him  for  some 
time,  studiously  led  the  conversation  to  his  enterprise 
in  Scotland,  and  to  the  occurrences  which  succeeded 
the  failure  of  that  attempt.  The  Prince  manifested 
some  reluctance  to  enter  upon  these  topics,  appearing 
at  the  same  time  to  undergo  so  much  mental  suffering, 
that  his  guest  regretted  the  freedom  he  had  used  in 
calling  up  the  remembrance  of  his  misfortunes.  At 
length,  however,  the  Prince  seemed  to  shake  off  the 
load  which  oppressed  him ;  his  eye  brightened,  his  face 
assumed  unwonted  animation,  and  he  entered  upon 
the  narrative  of  his  Scottish  campaigns  with  a  distinct 
but  somewhat  vehement  energy  of  manner — recounted 
his  marches,  his  battles,  his  victories,  his  retreats,  and 
his  defeats — detailed  his  hairbreadth  escapes  in  the 
Western  Isles,  the  inviolable  and  devoted  attachment 
of  his  Highland  friends,  and  at  length  proceeded  to 
allude  to  the  terrible  penalties  with  which  the  chiefs 
among  them  had  been  visited.  But  here  the  tide  of 
emotion  rose  too  high  to  allow  him  to  go  on — his  voice 
faltered,  his  eyes  became  fixed,  and  he  fell  convulsed 
on  the  floor.  The  noise  brought  into  his  room  his 
daughter,  the  Duchess  of  Albany,  who  happened  to  be 
in  an  adjoining  apartment.  '  Sir,'  she  exclaimed,  'what 
is  this  ?     You  have  been  speaking  to  my  father  about 

L 


i62       CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

Scotland   aud    the   Highlanders !      No   one   dares    to 
mention  those  subjects  in  his  presence.'" 

He  died  on  the  30th  of  January,  1788,  in  the  arms 
of  the  Master  of  Nairn,  The  monument  erected  to 
him,  his  father,  and  brother,  in  St.  Peter's,  by  desire 
of  George  IV.,  was  perhaps  the  most  graceful  tribute 
ever  paid  by  royalty  to  misfortune — KhGio  cineri 
PiETAS  Eegia. 


CHARLES  EDWARD  AT  VERSAILLES 

ON  THE  ANNIVERSARY  OF  CULLODEN 

Take  away  that  star  and  garter — 

Hide  them  from  my  aching  sight : 
Neither  king  nor  prince  shall  tempt  me 

From  my  lonely  room  this  night ; 
Fitting  for  the  throneless  exile 

Is  the  atmosphere  of  pall, 
And  the  gusty  winds  that  shiver 

'Neath  the  tapestry  on  the  wall. 
When  the  taper  faintly  dwindles 

Like  the  pulse  within  the  vein, 
That  to  gay  and  merry  measure 

Ne'er  may  hope  to  bound  again. 
Let  the  shadows  gather  round  me 

While  I  sit  in  silence  here, 
Broken-hearted,  as  an  orphan 

Watching  by  his  father's  bier. 
Let  me  hold  my  still  communion 

Far  from  every  earthly  sound — 
Day  of  penance — day  of  passion — 

Ever,  as  the  year  comes  round : 
Fatal  day,  whereon  the  latest 

Die  was  cast  for  me  and  mine — 


164      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

Cruel  day,  that  quelled  the  fortunes 

Of  the  hapless  Stuart  line  ! 
Phantom-like,  as  in  a  mirror, 

Pdse  the  griesly  scenes  of  death — 
There  before  me,  in  its  wildness, 

Stretches  bare  Culloden's  heath  : 
There  the  broken  clans  are  scattered, 

Gaunt  as  wolves,  and  famine-eyed, 
Hunger  gnawing  at  their  vitals, 

Hope  abandoned,  all  but  pride — 
Pride,  and  that  supreme  devotion 

Which  the  Southron  never  knew. 
And  the  hatred,  deeply  rankling, 

'Gainst  the  Hanoverian  crew. 
Oh,  my  God  !  are  these  the  remnants. 

These  the  wrecks  of  the  array 
That  around  the  royal  standard 

Gathered  on  the  glorious  day, 
When,  in  deep  Glenfinnan's  valley, 

Thousands,  on  their  bended  knees, 
Saw  once  more  that  stately  ensign 

Waving  in  the  northern  breeze, 
When  the  noble  Tullibardine 

Stood  beneath  its  weltering  fold. 
With  the  Euddy  Lion  ramping 

In  the  field  of  tressured  gold. 
When  the  miglity  heart  of  Scotland, 

All  too  big  to  slumber  more, 
Burst  in  wratli  and  exultation. 

Like  a  huge  volcano's  roar  ? 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT    VERSAILLES        165 

There  they  stand,  11  le  hattered  cohimns, 

Underneath  tlie  murky  sky, 
In  the  hush  of  desperation, 

Not  to  conquer,  Ijut  to  die. 
Hark  !  the  l)agpipe's  fitful  wailing  : 

Not  the  pibroch  loud  and  shrill, 
That,  with  hope  of  bloody  banquet, 

Lured  the  ravens  from  the  hill, 
But  a  dirge  both  low  and  solemn. 

Fit  for  ears  of  dying  men, 
Marshalled  for  their  latest  battle, 

Never  more  to  fight  again. 
Madness — madness  !    Why  this  shrinking  ? 

Were  we  less  inured  to  war 
When  our  reapers  swept  the  harvest 

From  the  field  of  red  Dunbar  ? 
Bring  my  horse,  and  blow  the  trumpet ! 

Call  the  riders  of  Fitz-James  : 
Let  Lord  Lewis  head  the  column  ! 

Valiant  chiefs  of  mighty  names — 
Trusty  Keppoch,  stout  Glengarry, 

Gallant  Gordon,  wise  Locheill — 
Bid  the  clansmen  hold  together, 

Fast,  and  fell,  and  firm  as  steel. 
Elcho,  never  look  so  gloomy — 

What  avails  a  saddened  brow  ? 
Heart,  man,  heart !  we  need  it  sorely, 

Never  half  so  much  as  now. 
Had  we  but  a  thousand  troopers. 

Had  we  but  a  thousand  more ! 


1 66       CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

Noble  Perth,  I  hear  them  coming  !— 
Hark  !  the  English  cannons'  roar. 
God !  how  awful  sounds  that  volley, 

Bellowing  through  the  mist  and  rain ! 
Was  not  that  the  Highland  slogan  ? 

Let  me  hear  that  shout  again  ! 
Oh,  for  prophet  eyes  to  witness 

How  the  desperate  battle  goes  ! 
Cumberland !  I  would  not  fear  thee. 
Could  my  Camerons  see  their  foes. 
Sound,  I  say,  the  charge  at  venture— 

'T  is  not  naked  steel  we  fear ; 
Better  perish  in  the  mel^e 

Than  be  shot  like  driven  deer ; 
Hold  !  the  mist  begins  to  scatter ! 

There  in  front  't  is  rent  asunder, 
And  the  cloudy  bastion  crumbles 

Underneath  the  deafening  thunder ; 
There  I  see  the  scarlet  gleaming ! 

Now,  Macdonald— now  or  never!— 
Woe  is  me,  the  clans  are  broken ! 
Father,  thou  art  lost  for  ever ! 
Chief  and  vassal,  lord  and  yeoman, 
There  they  lie  in  heaps  together, 
Smitten  by  the  deadly  volley. 

Rolled  in  blood  upon  the  heather ; 
And  the  Hanoverian  horsemen. 

Fiercely  riding  to  and  fro. 
Deal  their  murderous  strokes  at  random. — 
Ah,  my  God  !  where  am  I  now  ? 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       167 

Will  that  baleful  vision  never 

Vanish  from  my  aching  sight  ? 
Must  those  scenes  and  sounds  of  terror 

Haunt  me  still  by  day  and  night  ? 
Yea,  the  earth  hath  no  oblivion 

For  the  noblest  chance  it  gave, 
None,  save  in  its  latest  refuge — 

Seek  it  only  in  the  grave ! 
Love  may  die,  and  hatred  slumber, 

And  their  memory  will  decay, 
As  the  watered  garden  recks  not 

Of  the  drought  of  yesterday  ; 
But  the  dream  of  power  once  broken, 

What  shall  give  repose  again  ? 
What  shall  charm  the  serpent- furies 

Coiled  around  the  maddening  brain  ? 
What  kind  draught  can  nature  offer 

Strong  enough  to  lull  their  sting  ? 
Better  to  be  born  a  peasant 

Than  to  live  an  exiled  king ! 
Oh,  these  years  of  bitter  anguish  ! — 

What  is  life  to  such  as  me, 
With  my  very  heart  as  palsied 

As  a  wasted  cripple's  knee  ! 
Suppliant-like  for  alms  depending 

On  a  false  and  foreign  court. 
Jostled  by  the  flouting  nobles, 

Half'  their  pity,  half  their  sport. 
Forced  to  hold  a  place  in  pageant, 

Like  a  royal  prize  of  war, 


i68      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

Walking  with  dejected  features 

Close  behind  his  victor's  car, 
Styled  an  equal — deemed  a  servant — 

Fed  with  hopes  of  future  gain — 
Worse  by  far  is  fancied  freedom 

Than  the  captive's  clanking  chain  ! 
Could  I  change  this  gilded  bondage 

Even  for  the  dusky  tower, 
Whence  King  James  beheld  his  lady 

Sitting  in  the  castle  bower ; 
Birds  around  her  sweetly  singing, 

Fluttering  on  the  kindling  spray, 
And  the  comely  garden  glowing 

In  the  light  of  rosy  May. 
Love  descended  to  the  window — 

Love  removed  the  bolt  and  bar — 
Love  was  warder  to  the  lovers 

From  the  dawn  to  even-star. 
Wherefore,  Love,  didst  thou  betray  me  ? 

Where  is  now  the  tender  glance  ? 
Where  the  meaning  looks  once  la\dshed 

By  the  dark-eyed  Maid  of  France  ? 
Where  the  words  of  hope  she  whispered. 

When  around  my  neck  she  threw 
That  same  scarf  of  broidered  tissue, 

Bade  me  wear  it  and  be  true — 
Bade  me  send  it  as  a  token 

When  my  banner  waved  once  more 
On  the  castled  Keep  of  London, 
Where  my  fathers'  waved  before  ? 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       169 

And  I  went  and  did  not  conquer — 

But  I  brought  it  back  again — 
Brought  it  back  from  storm  and  battle — 

Brought  it  back  without  a  stain  ; 
And  once  more  I  knelt  before  her, 

And  I  laid  it  at  her  feet, 
Saying,  "  Wilt  thou  own  it,  Princess  ? 

There  at  least  is  no  defeat !  " 
Scornfully  she  looked  upon  me 

With  a  measured  eye  and  cold — 
Scornfully  she  viewed  the  token, 

Though  her  fingers  wrought  the  gold ; 
And  she  answered,  faintly  flushing, 

"  Hast  thou  kept  it,  then,  so  long  ? 
Worthy  matter  for  a  minstrel 

To  be  told  in  knightly  song ! 
Worthy  of  a  bold  Provencal, 

Pacing  through  the  peaceful  plain. 
Singing  of  his  lady's  favour. 

Boasting  of  her  silken  chain. 
Yet  scarce  worthy  of  a  warrior 

Sent  to  wrestle  for  a  crown. 
Is  this  all  that  thou  hast  brought  me 

From  thy  fields  of  high  renown  ? 
Is  this  all  the  trophy  carried 

From  the  lands  where  thou  hast  been  ? 
It  was  broidered  by  a  Princess, 

Canst  thou  give  it  to  a  Queen  ? " 
Woman's  love  is  writ  in  water  ! 

Woman's  faith  is  traced  in  sand  ! 


lyo       CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

Backwards — backwards  let  me  wander 

To  the  noble  northern  land  : 
Let  me  feel  the  breezes  blowing 

Fresh  along  the  mountain-side ; 
Let  me  see  the  purple  heather, 

Let  me  hear  the  thundering  tide, 
Be  it  hoarse  as  Corrievreckan 

Spouting  when  the  storm  is  high — 
Give  me  but  one  hour  of  Scotland — 

Let  me  see  it  ere  I  die ! 
Oh,  my  heart  is  sick  and  heavy — 

Southern  gales  are  not  for  me  ; 
Though  the  glens  are  white  with  winter, 

Place  me  there,  and  set  me  free ; 
Give  me  back  my  trusty  comrades — 

Give  me  back  my  Highland  maid — 
Nowhere  beats  the  heart  so  kindly 

As  beneath  the  tartan  plaid  ! 
Flora  !  when  thou  wert  beside  me. 

In  the  wilds  of  far  Kintail — 
When  the  cavern  gave  us  shelter 

From  the  blinding  sleet  and  hail — 
When  we  lurked  within  the  thicket, 

And,  beneath  the  waning  moon. 
Saw  the  sentry's  bayonet  glimmer, 

Heard  him  chant  his  listless  tune — 
When  the  howling  storm  o'ertook  us, 

Drifting  down  the  island's  lee, 
And  our  crazy  bark  was  whirling 
Like  a  nutshell  on  the  sea — 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT    VERSAILLES       171 

When  the  nights  were  dark  and  dreary, 

And  amidst  the  fern  we  lay, 
Faint  and  foodless,  sore  with  travel, 

Waiting  for  the  streaks  of  day  ; 
When  thou  wert  an  angel  to  me, 

Watching  my  exhausted  sleep — 
Never  didst  thou  hear  me  murmur — 

Couldst  thou  see  how  now  I  weep ! 
Bitter  tears  and  sobs  of  anguish, 

Unavailing  though  they  be : 
Oh,  the  brave — the  brave  and  noble — 

That  have  died  in  vain  for  me ! 


NOTES   TO 
"CHARLES  EDWARD  AT  VERSAILLES" 


Could  I  change  this  gilded  bondage 

Even  for  the  dushy  totver 
Whence  King  James  helield  his  lady 

Sitting  in  the  castle  horcer. — p.  1G8. 

James  I.  of  Scotland,  one  of  the  most  accomplished  kings 
that  ever  sate  upon  a  throne,  is  the  person  here  indicated. 
His  history  is  a  very  strange  and  romantic  one.  He  was 
son  of  Kohert  III.,  and  immediate  younger  brother  of  that 
unhappy  Duke  of  Eothesay  who  was  murdered  at  Falkland. 
His  father,  apprehensive  of  the  designs  and  treachery  of 
Albany,  had  determined  to  remove  him,  when  a  mere  boy, 
for  a  season  from  Scotland ;  and  as  France  was  then  con- 
sidered the  best  school  for  the  education  of  one  so 
important  from  his  high  position,  it  was  resolved  to  send 
him  thither,  under  the  care  of  the  Earl  of  Orkney,  and 
Fleming  of  Cumbernauld.  He  accordingly  embarked  at 
North  Berwiclc,  with  little  escort — as  there  was  a  truce  for 
the  time  between  England  and  Scotland  ;  and  they  were 
under  no  apprehension  of  meeting  with  any  vessels,  save 
those  of  the  former  nation.  Notwithstanding  this,  the 
ship  which  carried  the  Prince  was  captured  by  an  armed 
merchantman,   and  carried   to  London,  wherf   Henry  IV., 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       173 

the  usurping  Bolingbroke,  utterly  regardless  of  treaties, 
committed  him  and  his  attendants  to  the  Tower. 

"In  vain,"  says  Mr.  Tytler,  "did  the  guardians  of  the 
young  Prince  remonstrate  against  this  cruelty,  or  present  to 
Henry  a  letter  from  the  King  his  father,  which,  with  much 
simplicity,  recommended  him  to  the  kindness  of  the 
English  monarch,  should  he  find  it  necessary  to  land  in  his 
dominions.  In  vain  did  they  represent  that  the  mission  to 
France  was  perfectly  pacific,  and  its  only  object  the 
education  of  the  prince  at  the  French  court.  Henry 
merely  answered  by  a  poor  witticism,  declaring  that  he 
himself  knew  the  French  language  indilferently  well,  and 
that  his  father  could  not  have  sent  him  to  a  better  master. 
So  flagrant  a  breach  of  the  law  of  nations,  as  the  seizure 
and  imprisonment  of  the  heir-apparent,  during  the  time  of 
truce,  would  have  called  for  the  most  violent  remonstrances 
from  any  government,  except  that  of  Albany.  But  to  this 
usurper  of  the  supreme  power,  the  capture  of  the  Prince 
was  the  most  grateful  event  which  coidd  have  happened  ; 
and  to  detain  him  in  captivity  became,  from  this  moment, 
one  of  the  principal  objects  of  his  future  life ;  we  are  not 
to  wonder,  then,  tliat  the  conduct  of  Henry  not  only  drew 
forth  no  indignation  from  the  governor,  but  was  not  even 
followed  by  any  request  that  the  prince  should  be  set  at 
liberty. 

"  The  aged  King,  already  worn  out  by  infirmity,  and  now 
broken  by  disappointment  and  sorrow,  did  not  long  survive 
the  captivity  of  his  son.  It  is  said  the  melancholy  news 
were  brought  him  as  he  was  sitting  down  to  supper  in  his 
palace  of  Rothesay  in  Bute,  and  that  the  eftect  was  such 
upon  his  aff'ectionate  but  feeble  spirit,  that  he  drooped  from 
that  day  forward,  refused  all  sustenance,  and  died  soon 
after  of  a  broken  heart." 


174       CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

James  was  finally  incarcerated  in  Windsor  Castle,  where 
he  endured  an  imprisonment  of  nineteen  years.  Henry, 
though  he  had  not  hesitated  to  commit  a  heinous  breach  of 
faith,  was  not  so  cruel  as  to  neglect  the  education  of  his 
captive.  The  young  King  was  supplied  with  the  best 
masters ;  and  gradually  became  an  adept  in  all  the  ac- 
complishments of  the  age.  He  is  a  singular  exception 
from  the  rule  which  maintains  that  monarchs  are  indifferent 
authors.  As  a  poet,  he  is  entitled  to  a  very  high  rank 
indeed,  being,  I  think,  in  point  of  sweetness  and  melody  of 
verse,  not  much  inferior  to  Chaucer.  From  the  window  of 
his  chamber  in  the  Tower,  he  had  often  seen  a  young  lady, 
of  great  beauty  and  grace,  walking  in  the  garden  ;  and  the 
admiration  which  at  once  possessed  him  soon  ripened  into 
love.  This  was  Lady  Jane  Beaufort,  daughter  of  the  Earl 
of  Somerset  and  niece  of  Henry  IV.,  and  who  afterwards 
became  his  queen.  How  he  loved  and  how  he  wooed  her  is 
told  in  his  own  beautiful  poem  of  "  The  King's  Quhair,"  of 
which  the  following  are  a  few  stanzas  : — 

"  Now  there  was  made,  fast  by  the  towris  wall, 
A  garden  fair  ;  and  in  the  corners  set 
An  arbour  green,  with  wandis  long  and  small 
Railed  about,  and  so  with  trees  set 
Was  all  the  place,  and  hawthorn  hedges  knet, 
That  lyf  was  none  walking  there  forbye, 
That  might  within  scarce  any  wight  espy. 

"  So  thick  the  boughis  and  the  leavis  greene 
Beshaded  all  the  alleys  that  there  were. 
And  mids  of  every  arbour  might  be  seen 
The  sharpe,  greene,  sweete  juniper, 
Growing  so  fair,  with  branches  here  and  there, 
That,  as  it  seemed  to  a  lyf  without. 
The  boughis  spread  the  arbour  all  about. 


CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES       175 

"  And  on  the  smalle  greene  Iwistis  sat 
The  little  sweet  nightingale,  and  sung 
So  loud  and  clear  the  hymnis  consecrat 
Of  lovis  use,  now  soft,  now  loud  among, 
That  all  the  gardens  and  the  wallis  rung 
Right  of  their  song 


IgllU     KJL        LllLll      OUllg. 


"And  therewith  cast  I  down  mine  eyes  again, 
Where  as  I  saw,  walking  under  the  tower, 
Full  secretly,  now  comen  here  to  plain, 
The  fairest  or  the  freshest  younge  flower 
That  e'er  I  saw,  methought,  before  that  hour  : 
For  which  sudden  abate,  anon  astart 
The  blood  of  all  my  body  to  my  heart. 

"  And  though  I  stood  abasit  for  a  lite, 
No  wonder  was  ;  for  why  ?  my  wittis  all 
Were  so  o'ercome  with  pleasance  and  delight — 
Only  through  letting  of  my  eyen  fall — 
That  suddenly  my  heart  became  her  thrall 
For  ever  of  free  will,  for  of  menace 
There  was  no  token  in  her  sweete  face." 


Wherefore,  Love,  didst  thou  betray  me  ? 

Where  is  noio  the  tender  glance  ? 
Where  the  vieaning  looks  once  lavished 

By  the  dark-eyed  Maid  of  France? — p.  168. 

There  appears  to  be  no  doubt  that  Prince  Charles  was 
deeply  attached  to  one  of  the  princesses  of  the  royal  family 
of  France.  In  the  interesting  collection  called  "Jacobite 
Memoirs,"  compiled  by  Mr.  Chambers  from  the  voluminous 
MSS.  of  Bishop  Forbes,  we  find  the  following  passage  from 
the  narrative  of  Donald  Macleod,  who  acted  as  a  guide  to 
the  wanderer  whilst  traversing  the  Hebrides:  —  "When 
Donald  was  asked,  if    ever  the  Prince  used  to  give  any 


176      CHARLES    EDWARD   AT   VERSAILLES 

particular  toast,  when  tliey  "were  taking  a  cup  of  cold 
water,  or  the  like ;  he  said  that  the  Prince  very  often 
drank  to  the  Black  Eye — -by  which,  said  Donald,  he  meant 
the  second  daughter  of  France,  and  I  never  heard  him 
name  any  particular  health  but  that  alone.  When  he 
spoke  of  that  lady — which  he  did  frequently — he  appeared 
to  be  more  than  ordinarily  well  pleased." 


THE   OLD   SCOTTISH   CAVALIER 


The  "gentle  Locheill"  may  be  considered  as  the 
pattern  of  a  Highland  Chief.  Others  who  headed  the 
insurrection  may  have  been  actuated  by  motives  of 
personal  ambition,  and  by  a  desire  for  aggrandisement ; 
but  no  such  charge  can  be  made  against  the  generous 
and  devoted  Cameron.  He  was,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  the  first  who  attempted  to  dissuade  the  Prince 
from  embarking  in  an  enterprise  which  he  conscien- 
tiously beUeved  to  be  desperate ;  but,  having  failed  in 
doing  so,  he  nobly  stood  firm  to  the  cause  which  his 
conscience  vindicated  as  just,  and  cheerfully  imperilled 
his  life,  and  sacrificed  liis  fortune,  at  the  bidding  of  his 
master.  There  was  no  one,  even  among  those  who 
espoused  the  other  side,  in  Scotland,  who  did  not 
commiserate  the  misfortunes  of  this  truly  excellent 
man,  whose  humanity  was  not  less  conspicuous  than 
his  valour  throughout  the  civil  war,  and  who  died  in 
exile  of  a  broken  heart. 

Perhaps  the  best  type  of  the  Lowland  Cavalier  of 
that  period,  may  be  found  in  the  person  of  Alexander 
Forbes,  Lord  Pitsligo,  a  nobleman  whose  conscientious 


178  THE    OLD    SCOTTISH   CAVALIER 

views  impelled  him  to  take  a  different  side  from 
that  adopted  by  the  greater  part  of  his  house  and 
name.  Lord  Forbes,  the  head  of  this  very  ancient 
and  honourable  family,  was  one  of  the  first  Scottish 
noblemen  who  declared  for  King  William.  Lord 
Pitsligo,  on  the  contrary,  having  been  educated  abroad, 
and  early  introduced  to  the  circle  at  Saint  Germains, 
conceived  a  deep  personal  attachment  to  the  members 
of  the  exiled  line.  He  was  anything  but  an  enthusiast, 
as  his  philosophical  and  religious  writings,  well  worthy 
of  a  perusal,  will  show.  He  was  the  intimate  friend 
of  Fenelon,  and  throughout  his  whole  life  was  remark- 
able rather  for  his  piety  and  virtue,  than  for  keenness 
in  political  dispute. 

After  his  return  from  France,  Lord  Pitsligo  took  his 
seat  in  the  Scottish  Parliament,  and  his  parliamentary 
career  has  thus  been  characterised  by  a  former  writer.* 
"  Here  it  is  no  discredit  either  to  his  head  or  heart  to 
say,  that,  obliged  to  become  a  member  of  one  of  the 
contending  factions  of  the  time,  he  adopted  that  which 
had  for  its  object  the  independence  of  Scotland,  and 
restoration  of  the  ancient  race  of  monarchs.  The 
advantages  which  w^ere  in  future  to  arise  from  the 
great  measure  of  a  national  union  were  so  hidden  by 
the  mist  of  prejudice,  that  it  cannot  be  wondered  at  if 
Lord  Pitsligo,   like   many   a   high-spirited    man,   saw 

*  Seo  Blackwood's  Magazine  for  May  1829. — Article  "  Lord 
Pitsligo." 


THE   OLD   SCOTTISH   CAVALIER  179 

nothing  but  disgrace  in  a  measure  forced  on  by  such 
corrupt  means,  and  calling  in  its  commencement  for 
such  mortifying  national  sacrifices.  The  English 
nation,  indeed,  with  a  narrow,  yet  not  unnatural, 
view  of  their  own  interest,  took  such  pains  to 
encumber  and  restrict  the  Scottish  commercial  privileges 
that  it  was  not  till  the  best  part  of  a  century  after  the 
event  that  the  inestimable  fruits  of  the  treaty  began 
to  be  felt  and  known.  This  distant  period  Lord 
Pitsligo  could  not  foresee.  He  beheld  his  countrymen, 
like  the  Israelites  of  yore,  led  into  the  desert ;  but  his 
merely  human  eye  could  not  foresee  that,  after  the 
extinction  of  a  whole  race — after  a  longer  pilgrimage 
than  that  of  the  followers  of  Moses — the  Scottish 
people  should  at  length  arrive  at  that  promised  land, 
of  which  the  favourers  of  the  Union  held  forth  so  gay 
a  prospect. 

"Looking  upon  the  Act  of  Settlement  of  the 
Crown,  and  the  Act  of  Abjuration,  as  unlawful, 
Lord  Pitsligo  retired  to  his  house  in  the  country, 
and  threw  up  attendance  on  Parliament.  Upon  the 
death  of  Queen  Anne  he  joined  himself  in  arms 
with  a  general  insurrection  of  the  Highlanders  and 
Jacobites,  headed  by  his  friend  and  relative  the  Earl 
of  Mar. 

"Mar,  a  versatile  statesman  and  an  able  intriguer, 
had  consulted  his  ambition  rather  than  his  talents 
when  he  assumed  the  command  of  such  an  enterprise. 
He  sunk  beneath  the  far  superior  genius  of  the  Duke 


i8o  THE    OLD    SCOTTISH   CAVALIER 

of  Argyle ;  and  after  the  undecisive  battle  of  Sheriff- 
muir,  the  confederacy  which  he  had  formed,  but  was 
unable  to  direct,  dissolved  like  a  snow-ball,  and  the 
nobles  concerned  in  it  were  fain  to  fly  abroad.  This 
exile  was  Lord  Pitsligo's  fate  for  five  or  six  years. 
Part  of  the  time  he  spent  at  the  Court,  if  it  can  be 
called  so,  of  the  old  Chevalier  de  Saint  George,  where 
existed  all  the  petty  feuds,  chicanery,  and  crooked 
intrigues  which  subsist  in  a  real  scene  of  the  same 
character,  although  the  objects  of  the  ambition  which 
prompts  such  arts  had  no  existence.  Men  seemed  to 
play  at  being  courtiers  in  that  illusory  court,  as 
children  play  at  being  soldiers." 

It  would  appear  that  Lord  Pitsligo  was  not  attainted 
for  his  share  in  Mar's  rebellion.  He  returned  to  Scotland 
in  1720,  and  resided  at  his  castle  in  Aberdeenshire, 
not  mingling  in  public  affairs,  but  gaining,  through 
his  charity,  kindness,  and  benevolence,  the  respect  and 
affection  of  all  around  him.  He  was  sixty-seven  years 
of  age  when  Charles  Edward  landed  in  Scotland.  The 
district  in  which  the  estates  of  Lord  Pitsligo  lay 
was  essentially  Jacobite,  and  the  young  cavaliers  only 
waited  for  a  fitting  leader  to  take  up  arms  in  the 
cause.  According  to  Mr.  Home,  his  example  was 
decisive  of  the  movement  of  his  neighbours :  "  So 
when  he  who  was  so  wise  and  prudent  declared  his 
purpose  of  joining  Charles,  most  of  the  gentlemen  in 
that  part  of  the  country  who  favoured  the  Pretender's 
cause,  put  themselves  under   his   command,  thinking 


THE    OLD    SCOTTISH    CAVALIER  i8i 

they  could  not  follow  a  better  or  safer  guide  than 
Lord  ritsligo."  His  Lordship's  own  account  of  the 
motives  which  urged  him  on  is  peculiar : — "  I  was 
grown  a  little  old,  and  the  fear  of  ridicule  stuck 
to  me  pretty  much.  I  have  mentioned  the  weightier 
considerations  of  a  family,  which  would  make  the 
censure  still  the  greater,  and  set  the  more  tongues 
agoing.  But  we  are  pushed  on,  I  know  not  how, — 
I  thought — I  weighed — and  I  weighed  again.  If 
there  was  any  enthusiasm  in  it,  it  was  of  the  coldest 
kind ;  and  there  was  as  little  remorse  when  the 
affair  miscarried,  as  there  was  eagerness  at  the 
beginning." 

The  writer  whom  I  have  already  quoted  goes  on 
to  say — "  To  those  friends  who  recalled  his  misfortunes 
of  1715,  he  replied  gaily,  'Did  you  ever  know  me 
absent  at  the  second  day  of  a  wedding?'  meaning, 
I  suppose,  that  having  once  contracted  an  engagement, 
he  did  not  feel  entitled  to  quit  it  while  the  contest 
subsisted.  Being  invited  by  the  gentlemen  of  the 
district  to  put  himself  at  their  head,  and  having 
surmounted  his  own  desires,  he  had  made  a  farewell 
visit  at  a  neighbour's  house,  where  a  little  boy,  a 
child  of  the  family,  brought  out  a  stool  to  assist 
the  old  nobleman  in  remounting  his  horse.  'My 
little  fellow,'  said  Lord  Pitsligo,  '  this  is  the  severest 
rebuke  I  have  yet  received,  for  presuming  to  go  on 
such  an  expedition.' 

"The    die    was    however    cast,  and    Lord    Pitsligo 


i82  THE   OLD    SCOTTISH   CAVALIER 

went  to  meet  his  friends  at  the  rendezvous  they 
had  appointed  in  Aberdeen.  They  formed  a  body 
of  well-armed  cavalry,  gentlemen  and  their  servants, 
to  the  number  of  a  hundred  men.  When  they 
were  drawn  up  in  readiness  to  commence  the  expe- 
dition, the  venerable  nobleman,  their  leader,  moved 
to  their  front,  lifted  his  hat,  and,  looking  up  to 
heaven,  pronounced,  with  a  solemn  voice,  the  awful 
appeal, — '  0  Lord,  thou  knowest  that  our  cause  is 
just ! '  then  added  the  signal  for  departure — '  March, 
gentlemen ! ' 

"Lord  Pitsligo,  with  his  followers,  found  Charles 
at  Edinburgh,  on  Stli  October  1745,  a  few  days  after 
the  Highlanders'  victory  at  Preston.  Their  arrival 
was  hailed  with  enthusiasm,  not  only  on  account  of 
the  timely  reinforcement,  but  more  especially  from 
the  high  character  of  their  leader.  Hamilton  of 
Bangour,  in  an  animated  and  eloquent  eulogium  upon 
Pitsligo,  states  that  nothing  could  have  fallen  out 
more  fortunately  for  the  Prince  than  his  joining 
them  did  —  for  it  seemed  as  if  religion,  virtue, 
and  justice  were  entering  his  camp,  under  the 
appearance  of  this  venerable  old  man ;  and  what 
would  have  given  sanction  to  a  cause  of  the  most 
dubious  right,  could  not  fail  to  render  sacred  the 
very  best." 

Although  so  far  advanced  in  years,  he  remained 
in  arms  during  the  whole  campaign,  and  was  treated 
with   almost   filial   tenderness  by  the  Prince.     After 


THE    OLD    SCOTTISH   CAVALIER  183 

Cullodeii,  he  became,  like  many  more,  a  fugitive  and  an 
outlaw,  but  succeeded,  like  the  Baron  of  Bradwardine, 
in  finding  a  shelter  upon  the  skirts  of  his  own 
estate.  Disguised  as  a  mendicant,  his  secret  was 
faithfully  kept  by  the  tenantry ;  and  although  it 
was  more  than  surmised  by  the  soldiers  that  he  was 
lurking  somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood,  they  never 
were  able  to  detect  him.  On  one  occasion  he  actually 
guided  a  party  to  a  cave  on  the  sea-shore,  amidst 
the  rough  rocks  of  Buchau,  where  it  was  rumoured 
that  he  was  lying  in  concealment ;  and  on  another, 
when  overtaken  by  his  asthma,  and  utterly  unable 
to  escape  from  an  approaching  patrol  of  soldiers, 
he  sat  down  by  the  wayside,  and  acted  his  assumed 
character  so  w^ell,  that  a  good-natured  fellow  not 
only  gave  him  alms,  but  condoled  with  him  on  the 
violence  of  his  complaint. 

For  ten  years  he  remained  concealed,  but  in  the 
mean  time  both  title  and  estate  were  forfeited  by 
attainder.  His  last  escape  was  so  very  remarkable, 
that  I  may  be  pardoned  for  giving  it  in  the  language 
of  the  author  of  his  memoirs. 

"  In  ]\Iarch  1756,  and  of  course  long  after  all 
apprehension  of  a  search  had  ceased,  information 
having  been  given  to  the  commanding  ofhcer  at 
Fraserburgh,  that  Lord  Pitsligo  was  at  that  moment 
at  the  house  of  Auchiries,  it  was  acted  upon  with 
so  much  promptness  and  secrecy  that  the  search 
must  have  proved  successful  but  for  a  very  singular 


1 84         THE   OLD   SCOTTISH   CAVALIER 

occurrence.  Mrs.  Sophia  Donaldson,  a  lady  who  lived 
much  with  the  family,  repeatedly  dreamt,  on  that  par- 
ticular night,  that  the  house  was  surrounded  by  soldiers. 
Her  mind  became  so  haunted  with  the  idea,  that  she 
got  out  of  bed,  and  was  walking  through  the  room,  in 
hopes  of  giving  a  different  current  to  her  thoughts 
before  she  lay  down  again ;  when,  day  beginning  to 
dawn,  she  accidentally  looked  out  at  the  window  as 
she  passed  it  in  traversing  the  room,  and  was  astonished 
at  actually  observing  the  figures  of  soldiers  among 
some  trees  near  the  house.  So  completely  had  all 
idea  of  a  search  been  by  that  time  laid  asleep,  that 
she  supposed  they  had  come  to  steal  poultry — Jaco- 
bite poultry-yards  affording  a  safe  object  of  pillage 
for  the  English  soldiers  in  those  days.  Mrs.  Sophia 
was  proceeding  to  rouse  the  servants,  when  her  sister, 
having  awaked,  and  inquiring  what  was  the  matter, 
and  being  told  of  soldiers  near  the  house,  exclaimed 
in  great  alarm,  that  she  feared  they  wanted  sometning 
more  than  hens.  She  begged  Mrs.  Sophia  to  look  out 
at  a  window  on  the  other  side  of  the  house,  wdien 
not  only  were  soldiers  seen  in  that  direction,  but 
also  an  officer  giving  instructions  by  signal,  and 
frequently  putting  his  fingers  to  his  lips,  as  if 
enjoining  silence. 

There  was  now  no  time  to  be  lost  in  rousing  the 
family,  and  all  the  haste  that  could  be  made  was 
scarcely  sufficient  to  hurry  the  venerable  man  from 
his  bed  into  a  small  recess,  behind  the  wainscot  of  an 


THE    OLD    SCOTTISH   CAVALIER  185 

adjoining  room,  which  was  concealed  by  a  bed,  in 
which  a  lady,  Miss  Gordon  of  Towie,  who  was  there  on 
a  visit,  lay,  before  the  soldiers  obtained  admission.  A 
most  minute  search  took  place.  The  room  in  which 
Lord  Pitsligo  was  concealed  did  not  escape.  Miss 
Gordon's  bed  was  carefully  examined,  and  she  was 
obliged  to  suffer  the  rude  scrutiny  of  one  of  the  party, 
by  feeling  her  chin,  to  ascertain  that  it  was  not  a  man 
in  a  lady's  night-dress.  Before  the  soldiers  had 
finished  their  examination  in  this  room,  the  confine- 
ment and  anxiety  increased  Lord  Pitsligo's  asthma  so 
much,  and  his  breathing  became  so  loud,  that  it  cost 
Miss  Gordon,  lying  in  bed,  much  and  violent  cough- 
ing, which  she  counterfeited,  in  order  to  prevent  the 
high  breathings  behind  the  wainscot  from  being 
heard. 

It  may  be  easily  conceived  what  agony  she  would 
suffer,  lest,  by  overdoing  her  part,  she  should  increase 
suspicion,  and  in  fact  lead  to  a  discovery.  The  ruse 
was  fortunately  successful.  On  the  search  through 
the  house  being  given  over,  Lord  Pitsligo  was  hastily 
taken  from  his  confined  situation,  and  again  replaced 
in  bed;  and,  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  speak,  his 
accustomed  kindness  of  heart  made  him  say  to  his 
servant — 'James,  go  and  see  that  these  poor  fellows 
get  some  breakfast  and  a  drink  of  warm  ale,  for  this 
is  a  cold  morning;  they  are  only  doing  their  duty, 
and  cannot  bear  me  any  ill-will.'  AVhen  the  family 
were  felicitating  each  other  on  his  escape,  he  pleasantly 


1 86         THE   OLD   SCOTTISH   CAVALIER 

observed — '  A  poor  prize,  had  they  obtained  it — an  old 
dying  man  ! ' " 

This  was  the  last  attempt  made  on  the  part  of 
government  to  seize  on  the  persons  of  any  of  the  sur- 
viving insurgents.  Three  years  before,  Dr.  Archibald 
Cameron,  a  brother  of  Locheill,  having  clandestinely 
revisited  Scotland,  was  arrested,  tried,  and  executed  for 
high  treason  at  Tyburn.  The  government  was  gene- 
rally blamed  for  this  act  of  severity,  which  was  con- 
sidered rather  to  have  been  dictated  by  revenge  than 
required  for  the  public  safety.  It  is,  however,  pro- 
bable that  they  might  have  had  secret  information  of 
certain  negotiations  which  were  still  conducted  in  the 
Highlands  by  the  agents  of  the  Stuart  family,  and  that 
they  considered  it  necessary,  by  one  terrible  example, 
to  overawe  the  insurrectionary  spirit.  This  I  believe 
to  have  been  the  real  motive  of  an  execution  which 
otherwise  could  not  have  been  palliated :  and,  in  the 
case  of  Lord  Pitsligo,  it  is  quite  possible  that  the  zeal 
of  a  partisan  may  have  led  him  to  take  a  step  which 
would  not  have  been  approved  of  by  the  ministry. 
After  the  lapse  of  so  many  years,  and  after  so  many 
scenes  of  judicial  bloodshed,  the  nation  would  have 
turned  in  disgust  from  the  spectacle  of  an  old  man, 
whose  private  life  was  not  only  blameless,  but  exem- 
plary, dragged  to  the  scaffold,  and  forced  to  lay  down 
his  head  in  expiation  of  a  doubtful  crime :  and  this 
view  derives  corroboration  from  the  fact  that,  shortly 
afterwards,   Lord   Pitshgo   was    tacitly    permitted    to 


THE    OLD    SCOTTISH   CAVALIER  187 

return  to  the  society  of  his  friends,  without  further 
notice  or  persecution. 

Dr.  King,  tlie  Principal  of  St.  Mary's  Hall,  Oxford, 
has  borne  the  following  testimony  to  the  character  of 
Lord  Pitsligo.  "  Whoever  is  so  happy,  either  from 
his  natural  disposition,  or  his  good  judgment,  con- 
stantly to  observe  St.  Paul's  precept,  *  to  speak  evil  of 
no  one '  will  certainly  acquire  the  love  and  esteem  of 
the  whole  community  of  which  he  is  a  member.  But 
such  a  man  is  the  rara  avis  in  terris;  and,  among  all 
my  acquaintance,  I  have  known  only  one  person  to 
whom  I  can  with  truth  assign  tliis  character.  The 
person  I  mean  is  the  present  Lord  Pitsligo  of  Scot- 
land. I  not  only  never  heard  this  gentleman  speak 
an  ill  word  of  any  man  living,  but  I  always  observed 
him  ready  to  defend  any  other  person  who  was  ill 
spoken  of  in  his  company.  If  the  person  accused 
were  of  his  acquaintance,  my  Lord  Pitsligo  would 
always  find  something  good  to  say  of  him  as  a  coun- 
terpoise. If  he  were  a  stranger,  and  quite  unknown 
to  him,  my  lord  would  urge  in  his  defence  the  general 
corruption  of  manners,  and  the  frailties  and  infirmities 
of  human  nature. 

"It  is  no  wonder  that  such  an  excellent  man,  who, 
besides,  is  a  polite  scholar,  and  has  many  other  great 
and  good  qualities,  should  be  universally  admired  and 
beloved — insomucli,  that  I  persuade  myself  he  has  not 
one  enemy  in  the  world.  At  least,  to  this  general 
esteem  and  affection  for  his  person,  his  preservation 


1 88  THE    OLD    SCOTTISH    CAVALIER 

must  be  owing ;  for  since  his  attainder  he  has 
never  removed  far  from  his  own  house,  protected 
by  men  of  different  principles,  and  unsought  for  and 
unmolested  by  government."  To  which  eulogy  it 
might  be  added,  by  those  who  have  the  good 
fortune  to  know  his  representatives,  that  the  virtues 
here  acknowledged  seem  hereditary  in  the  family  of 
Pitsligo. 

The  venerable  old  nobleman  was  permitted  to  re- 
main without  molestation  at  the  residence  of  his  son, 
during  the  latter  years  of  an  existence  protracted  to 
the  extreme  verge  of  human  life.  And  so,  says  the 
author  of  his  memoirs,  "  In  this  happy  frame  of 
mind, — calm  and  full  of  hope,— the  saintly  man  con- 
tinued to  the  last,  with  his  reason  unclouded,  able  to 
study  his  favourite  volume,  enjoying  the  comforts  of 
friendship,  and  delighting  in  the  consolations  of 
religion,  till  he  gently  'fell  asleep  in  Jesus.'  He 
died  on  the  21st  of  December,  1762,  in  the  eighty-fifth 
year  of  his  age ;  and  to  his  surviving  friends  the 
recollection  of  the  misfortunes  which  had  accompanied 
him  through  his  long  life  was  painfully  awakened 
even  in  the  closing  scene  of  his  mortal  career — as 
his  son  had  the  mortification  to  be  indebted  to  a 
stranger,  now  the  proprietor  of  his  ancient  in- 
heritance by  purchase  from  the  crown,  for  permission 
to  lay  his  father's  honoured  remains  in  the  vault 
which  contained  the  ashes  of  his  family  for  many 
generations." 


THE    OLD    SCOTTISH    CAVALIER  189 

Such  a  character  as  this  is  well  worthy  of  remem- 
brance; and  Lord  Pitsligo  has  just  title  to  be  called 
the  last  of  the  old  Scottish  Cavaliers.  I  trust  that, 
in  adapting  the  words  of  the  following  little  ballad  to 
a  well-known  English  air,  I  have  committed  no  un- 
pardonable larceny. 


THE   OLD   SCOTTISH   CAVALIER 


Come  listen  to  another  song, 

Should  make  your  heart  beat  high, 
Bring  crimson  to  your  forehead, 

And  the  lustre  to  your  eye  ; — 
It  is  a  song  of  olden  time, 

Of  days  long  since  gone  by, 
And  of  a  Baron  stout  and  bold 

As  e'er  wore  sword  on  thigh  ! 

Like  a  brave  old  Scottish  cavalier. 
All  of  the  olden  time  ! 


II. 

He  kept  his  castle  in  the  north, 
Hard  by  the  thundering  Spey ; 

And  a  thousand  vassals  dwelt  around 
All  of  his  kindred  they. 

And  not  a  man  of  all  that  clan 
Had  ever  ceased  to  pray 


THE    OLD    SCOTTISH    CAVALIER  191 

For  the  Eoyal  race  they  loved  so  well, 
Though  exiled  far  away 

From  the  steadfast  Scottish  cavaliers, 
All  of  the  olden  time ! 


III. 

His  father  drew  the  righteous  sword 

For  Scotland  and  her  claims. 
Among  the  loyal  gentlemen 

And  chiefs  of  ancient  names 
Who  swore  to  fight  or  fall  beneath 

The  standard  of  King  James, 
And  died  at  Killiecrankie  pass 

With  the  glory  of  the  Gr?emes ; 

Like  a  true  old  Scottish  cavalier. 
All  of  the  olden  time  ! 

IV. 

He  never  owned  the  foreign  rule, 

'No  master  he  obeyed, 
But  kept  his  clan  in  peace  at  home. 

From  foray  and  from  raid ; 
And  when  they  asked  him  for  his  oath, 

He  touched  his  glittering  blade. 
And  pointed  to  his  bonnet  blue. 

That  bore  the  white  cockade  : 

Like  a  leal  old  Scottish  cavalier, 
All  of  the  olden  time ! 


192  THE    OLD    SCOTTISH    CAVALIER 

V. 

At  length  the  news  ran  through  the  land — 

The  Pkince  had  come  again  ! 
That  night  the  fiery  cross  was  sped 

O'er  mountain  and  through  glen ; 
And  our  old  Baron  rose  in  might, 

Like  a  lion  from  his  den, 
And  rode  away  across  the  hills 

To  Charlie  and  his  men. 

With  the  valiant  Scottish  cavaliers, 
All  of  the  olden  time ! 

VI. 

He  was  the  first  that  bent  the  knee 

When  THE  Standakd  waved  abroad, 
He  was  the  first  that  charged  the  foe 

On  Preston's  bloody  sod  ; 
And  ever,  in  the  van  of  fight, 

The  foremost  still  he  trod. 
Until,  on  bleak  CuUoden's  heath. 

He  gave  his  soul  to  God, 

Like  a  good  old  Scottish  cavalier. 
All  of  the  olden  time ! 

VII. 

Oh  !  never  shall  we  know  again 

A  heart  so  stout  and  true — 
The  olden  times  have  passed  away. 

And  weary  are  the  new : 


THE   OLD   SCOTTISH   CAVALIER  193 

Tlie  fair  "White  Rose  has  faded 

From  the  garden  where  it  grew, 
And  no  fond  tears  save  those  of  heaven 
The  glorious  bed  bedew 

Of  the  last  old  Scottish  cavalier, 
All  of  the  olden  time  ! 


N 


MISCELLANEOUS   POEMS 


BLIND   OLD    MILTON 


Place  me  once  more,  my  daughter,  where  the  sun 

May  sliine  upon  my  old  and  time-worn  head, 

For  the  last  tune,  perchance.     My  race  is  run ; 

And  soon  amidst  the  ever-silent  dead 

I  must  repose,  it  may  be,  half  forgot. 

Yes  !  I  have  broke  the  hard  and  l)itter  bread 

For  many  a  year,  with  those  who  trembled  not 

To  buckle  on  their  armour  for  the  fight, 

And  set  themselves  against  the  tyrant's  lot ; 

And  I  have  never  bowed  me  to  his  might, 

Nor  knelt  before  him — for  I  bear  within 

My  heart  the  sternest  consciousness  of  right, 

And  that  perpetual  hate  of  gilded  sin 

Which  made  me  what  I  am ;  and  though  the  stain 

Of  poverty  be  on  me,  yet  I  win 

More  honour  by  it,  than  the  blinded  train 

Who  hug  their  willing  servitude,  and  1)0W 

Unto  the  weakest  and  the  most  profane. 

Therefore,  with  unencumbered  soul  I  go 

Before  the  footstool  of  my  Maker,  where 

I  hope  to  stand  as  undebased  as  now  ! 


198  BLIND   OLD   MILTON 

Child  !  is  the  sun  abroad  ?     I  feel  my  hair 

Borne  up  and  wafted  by  the  gentle  wind, 

I  feel  the  odours  that  perfume  the  air, 

And  hear  the  rustling  of  the  leaves  behind. 

Within  my  heart  I  picture  them,  and  then 

I  almost  can  forget  that  I  am  blind, 

And  old,  and  hated  by  my  fellow-men. 

Yet  would  I  fain  once  more  behold  the  grace 

Of  nature  ere  I  die,  and  gaze  again 

Upon  her  living  and  rejoicing  face — 

Fain  would  I  see  thy  countenance,  my  cliild, 

My  comforter !     I  feel  thy  dear  embrace — 

I  hear  thy  voice,  so  musical,  and  mild, 

The  patient,  sole  interpreter,  by  whom 

So  many  years  of  sadness  are  beguiled ; 

For  it  hath  made  my  small  and  scanty  room 

Peopled  with  glowing  visions  of  the  past. 

But  I  will  calmly  bend  me  to  my  doom, 

And  wait  the  hour  which  is  approaching  fast. 

When  triple  light  shall  stream  upon  mine  eyes, 

And  heaven  itself  be  opened  up  at  last 

To  him  who  dared  foretell  its  mysteries. 

I  have  had  visions  in  this  drear  eclipse 

Of  outward  consciousness,  and  clomb  the  skies, 

Striving  to  utter  with  my  earthly  lips 

What  the  divirier  soul  had  half  divined, 

Even  as  the  Saint  in  his  Apocalypse 

Who  saw  the  inmost  glory,  where  enshrined 

Sat  He  who  fashioned  glory.     This  hath  driven 


BLIND    OLD    MILTON  199 

All  outward  strife  and  tumult  from  my  mind, 

And  humbled  me,  until  I  have  forgiven 

My  bitter  enemies,  and  only  seek 

To  find  the  straight  and  narrow  path  to  heaven. 

Yet  I  am  weak — oh !  how  entirely  weak, 

For  one  who  may  not  love  nor  suffer  more  ! 

Sometimes  unbidden  tears  will  wet  my  cheek, 

And  my  heart  bound  as  keenly  as  of  yore, 

Eesponsive  to  a  voice,  now  hushed  to  rest, 

Which  made  the  beautiful  Italian  shore. 

In  all  its  pomp  of  summer  vineyards  drest, 

An  Eden  and  a  Paradise  to  me. 

Do  the  sweet  breezes  from  the  balmy  west 

Still  murmur  through  thy  groves,  Parthenope, 

In  search  of  odours  from  the  orange  bowers  ? 

Still  on  thy  slopes  of  verdure  does  the  bee 

Cull  her  rare  honey  from  the  virgin  flowers  ? 

And  Philomel  her  plaintive  chaunt  prolong 

'Neath  skies  more  calm  and  more  serene  than  ours, 

Making  the  summer  one  perpetual  song  ? 

Art  thou  the  same  as  when  in  manhood's  pride 

I  walked  in  joy  thy  grassy  meads  among, 

With  that  fair  youthful  vision  by  my  side, 

In  whose  bright  eyes  I  looked — and  not  in  vain  ? 

0  my  adored  angel !  0  my  bride ! 

Despite  of  years,  and  woe,  and  want,  and  pain, 

My  soul  yearns  back  towards  thee,  and  I  seem 

To  wander  with  thee,  hand  in  hand,  again. 


200  BLIND    OLD    MILTON 

By  the  bright  margin  of  that  flowing  stream. 
I  hear  again  thy  voice,  more  silver-sweet 
Than  fancied  music  floating  in  a  dream, 
Possess  my  being ;  from  afar  I  greet 
The  waving  of  thy  garments  in  the  glade. 
And  the  light  rustling  of  thy  fairy  feet — 
What  time  as  one  half  eager,  half  afraid. 
Love's  burning  secret  faltered  on  my  tongue, 
And  tremulous  looks  and  broken  words  betrayed 
The  secret  of  the  heart  from  whence  they  sprung. 
Ah  me !  the  earth  that  rendered  thee  to  heaven 
Gave  up  an  angel  beautiful  and  young, 
Spotless  and  pure  as  snow  when  freshly  driven : 
A  bright  Aurora  for  the  starry  sphere 
Where  all  is  love,  and  even  life  forgiven. 
Bride  of  immortal  beauty — ever  dear  ! 
Dost  tliou  await  me  in  thy  blest  abode  ? 
While  I,  Tithonus-like,  must  linger  here, 
And  count  each  step  along  the  rugged  road ; 
A  phantom,  tottering  to  a  long-made  grave, 
And  eager  to  lay  down  my  weary  load ! 

I,  who  was  fancy's  lord,  am  fancy's  slave. 

Like  the  low  murmurs  of  the  Indian  shell 

Ta'en  from  its  coral  bed  beneath  the  wave, 

Which,  unforgetfal  of  the  ocean's  swell, 

Pietains  within  its  mystic  urn  the  hum 

Heard  in  the  sea-grots  where  the  Nereids  dwell — 

Old  thoughts  still  haunt  me — unawares  they  come 


BLIND    OLD    MILTON  201 

Between  me  and  my  rest,  nor  can  I  make 

Those  aged  visitors  of  sorrow  dumb. 

Oh,  yet  awhile,  my  feeble  soul,  awake ! 

Nor  wander  back  with  sullen  steps  again ; 

For  neither  pleasant  pastime  canst  thou  take 

In  such  a  journey,  nor  endure  the  pain. 

The  phantoms  of  the  past  are  dead  for  thee ; 

So  let  them  ever  uninvoked  remain, 

And  be  thou  calm,  till  death  shall  set  thee  free. 

Thy  flowers  of  hope  expanded  long  ago, 

Long  since  their  blossoms  withered  on  the  tree : 

No  second  spring  can  come  to  make  them  blow. 

But  in  the  silent  winter  of  the  grave 

They  lie  with  blighted  love  and  buried  woe. 

I  did  not  waste  the  gifts  which  nature  gave. 

Nor  slothful  lay  in  the  Circean  bower ; 

Nor  did  I  yield  myself  the  willing  slave 

Of  lust  for  pride,  for  riches,  or  for  power. 

No  !  in  my  heart  a  nobler  spirit  dwelt ; 

For  constant  was  my  faith  in  manhood's  dower ; 

Man— made  in  God's  own  image — and  I  felt 

How  of  our  own  accord  we  courted  shame, 

Until  to  idols  like  ourselves  we  knelt. 

And  so  renounced  the  great  and  glorious  claim 

Of  freedom,  our  immortal  heritage. 

I  saw  how  bigotry,  with  spiteful  aim, 

Smote  at  the  searching  eyesight  of  the  sage. 

How  error  stole  behind  the  steps  of  truth, 


202  BLIND   OLD   MILTON 

And  cast  delusion  on  the  sacred  page. 
So,  as  a  champion,  even  in  early  youth 
I  waged  my  battle  with  a  purpose  keen ; 
Nor  feared  the  hand  of  terror,  nor  the  tooth 
Of  serpent  jealousy.     And  I  have  been 
With  starry  Galileo  in  his  cell, 
That  wise  magician  with  the  brow  serene, 
Who  fathomed  space ;  and  I  have  seen  him  tell 
The  wonders  of  the  planetary  sphere, 
And  trace  the  ramparts  of  heaven's  citadel 
On  the  cold  flag-stones  of  his  dungeon  drear. 
And  I  have  walked  with  Hampden  and  with  Vane- 
Names  once  so  gracious  to  an  English  ear — 
In  days  that  never  may  return  again. 
My  voice,  though  not  the  loudest,  hath  been  heard 
Whenever  freedom  raised  her  cry  of  pain, 
And  the  faint  effort  of  the  humble  bard 
Hath  roused  up  thousands  from  their  lethargy, 
To  speak  in  words  of  thunder.     What  reward 
Was  mine,  or  theirs  ?     It  matters  not ;  for  I 
Am  but  a  leaf  cast  on  the  whirling  tide, 
Without  a  hope  or  wish,  except  to  die. 
•    But  truth,  asserted  once,  must  still  abide, 
Unquenchaljle,  as  are  those  fiery  springs 
Which  day  and  night  gush  from  the  mountain-side, 
Perpetual  meteors  girt  with  lambent  wings, 
Which  the  wild  tempest  tosses  to  and  fro. 
But  cannot  conquer  with  the  force  it  brings. 


BLIND    OLD    MILTON  203 

Yet  I,  who  ever  felt  another's  woe 

More  keenly  than  my  own  untold  distress ; 

I,  who  have  battled  with  the  common  foe, 

And  broke  for  years  the  bread  of  bitterness ; 

Who  never  yet  abandoned  or  betrayed 

The  trust  vouchsafed  me,  nor  have  ceased  to  bless, 

Am  left  alone  to  wither  in  the  shade, 

A  weak  old  man,  deserted  by  his  kind — 

Whom  none  will  comfort  in  his  age,  nor  aid  ! 

Oh  !  let  me  not  repine  !  A  quiet  mind, 
Conscious  and  upright,  needs  no  other  stay ; 
Nor  can  I  grieve  for  what  I  leave  behind. 
In  the  rich  promise  of  eternal  day. 
Henceforth  to  me  the  world  is  dead  and  gone. 
Its  thorns  unfelt,  its  roses  cast  away : 
And  the  old  pilgrim,  weary  and  alone. 
Bowed  down  with  travel,  at  his  Master's  gate 
Now  sits,  his  task  of  life-long  labour  done. 
Thankful  for  rest,  although  it  conies  so  late, 
After  sore  journey  through  this  world  of  sin, 
In  hope,  and  prayer,  and  wistfulness  to  wait, 
Until  the  door  shall  ope,  and  let  him  in. 


HERMOTIMUS 

Hermotimus,  the  hero  of  this  ballad,  was  a 
philosopher,  or  rather  a  prophet,  of  Clazomenge, 
who  possessed  the  faculty,  now  claimed  by  the 
animal-magnetists,  of  effecting  a  voluntary  separation 
between  his  soul  and  body ;  for  the  former  could 
wander  to  any  part  of  the  universe,  and  even  hold 
intercourse  with  supernatural  beings,  whilst  the 
senseless  frame  remained  at  home.  Hermotimus, 
however,  was  not  insensible  to  the  risk  attendant 
upon  this  disunion ;  since,  before  attempting  any  of 
these  aerial  flights,  he  took  the  precaution  to  warn 
his  wife,  lest,  ere  the  return  of  his  soul,  the  body 
should  be  rendered  an  unfit  or  useless  receptacle. 
This  accident,  which  he  so  much  dreaded,  at  length 
occurred ;  for  the  lady,  wearied  out  by  a  succession 
of  trances,  each  of  longer  duration  than  the  preceding, 
one  day  committed  his  body  to  tlie  flames,  and  thus 
effectually  put  a  stop  to  such  unconnubial  conduct. 
He  received  divine  honours  at  Clazomenae,  but  must 
nevertheless  remain  as  a  terrible  example  and  warnmg 
to  all  husbands  who  carry  their  scientific  or  spiritual 
pursuits  so  far  as  to  neglect  their  duty  to  their  wives. 


HERMOTIMUS  205 

It  is  somewhat  curious  that  Hermotimus  is  not 
the  ouly  person  (putting  the  disciples  of  Mesnier 
and  Dupotet  altogether  out  of  the  question)  who 
has  possessed  this  miraculous  power.  Another  and 
much  later  instance  is  recorded  by  Dr.  George  Cheyne, 
in  his  work  entitled,  The  English  Malady,  or  a  Treatise 
of  Nervous  Diseases,  as  having  come  under  his  own 
observation;  and,  as  this  case  is  exactly  similar  to 
that  of  the  Prophet,  it  may  amuse  the  reader  to 
see  how  far  an  ancient  fable  may  be  illustrated,  and 
in  part  explained,  by  the  records  of  modern  science. 
Dr.  Cheyne's  patient  was  probably  cataleptic;  but 
the  worthy  physician  must  be  allowed  to  tell  his 
own  story. 

"Colonel  Townsheud,  a  gentleman  of  honour  and 
integrity,  had  for  many  years  been  afHicted  with  a 
nephritic  complaint.  His  illness  increasing,  and  his 
strength  decaying,  he  came  from  Bristol  to  Bath  in 
a  litter,  in  autumn,  and  lay  at  the  Bell  Inn.  Dr. 
Baynard  and  I  were  called  to  him,  and  attended 
him  twice  a-day ;  but  his  vomitings  continuing  still 
incessant  and  obstinate  against  all  remedies,  we 
despaired  of  his  recovery.  While  he  was  in  this 
condition,  he  sent  for  us  one  morning;  we  waited 
on  him  with  Mr.  Skrine,  his  apothecary.  We  found 
his  senses  clear,  and  his  mind  calm :  his  nurse  and 
several  servants  were  about  him.  He  told  us  he 
had  sent  for  us  to  give  him  an  account  of  an  odd 
sensation   he   had   for   some   time   observed   and   felt 


2o6  HERMOTIMUS 

in  himself;  which  was,  that,  by  composing  himself, 
he  could  die  or  expire  when  he  pleased;  and  yet  by 
an  effort,  or  somehow,  he  could  come  to  life  again, 
which  he  had  sometimes  tried  before  he  had  sent 
for  us.  We  heard  this  with  surprise ;  but,  as  it  was 
not  to  be  accounted  for  upon  common  principles,  we 
could  hardly  believe  the  fact  as  he  related  it,  much 
less  give  any  account  of  it ;  unless  he  should  please 
to  make  the  experiment  before  us,  which  we  were 
unwilling  he  should  do,  lest,  in  his  weak  condition, 
he  might  cany  it  too  far.  He  continued  to  talk 
very  distinctly  and  sensibly  above  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  about  this  surprising  sensation,  and  insisted 
so  much  on  our  seeing  the  trial  made,  that  we  were 
at  last  forced  to  comply.  We  all  three  felt  his  pulse 
first — it  was  distinct,  though  small  and  thready,  and 
his  heart  had  its  usual  beating.  He  composed  himself 
on  his  back,  and  lay  in  a  still  posture  for  some  time  : 
while  I  held  his  right  hand,  Dr.  Baynard  laid  his  hand 
on  his  heart,  and  Mr.  Skrine  held  a  clean  looking-glass 
to  his  mouth.  I  found  his  pulse  sink  gradually,  till 
at  last  I  could  not  find  any  by  the  most  exact  and 
nice  touch.  Dr.  Baynard  could  not  feel  the  least 
motion  in  his  heart,  nor  Mr.  Skrine  the  least  soil 
of  breath  on  the  bright  mirror  he  held  to  his  mouth; 
then  each  of  us  by  turns  examined  his  arm,  heart, 
and  breath,  but  could  not,  by  the  nicest  scrutiny, 
discover  the  least  symptom  of  life  in  liim.  We 
reasoned   a   long  time  about  this  odd  appearance  as 


HERMOTIMUS  207 

well  as  we  could,  and  all  of  us  judging  it  inexplicable 
and  unaccountable ;  and,  finding  he  still  continued 
in  that  condition,  we  began  to  conclude  that  he 
had  indeed  carried  the  experiment  too  far ;  and  at 
last  were  satisfied  he  was  actually  dead,  and  were 
just  ready  to  leave  him.  This  continued  about  half 
an  hour.  As  we  were  going  away,  we  observed  some 
motion  about  the  body ;  and,  upon  examination,  found 
his  pulse  and  the  motion  of  his  heart  gradually 
returning.  He  began  to  breathe  gently  and  speak 
softly.  We  were  all  astonished  to  the  last  degree 
at  this  unexpected  change  ;  and,  after  some  further 
conversation  with  him,  and  among  ourselves,  went 
away  fully  satisfied  as  to  all  the  particulars  of  this 
fact,  but  confounded  and  puzzled,  and  not  able  to 
form  any  rational  scheme  that  might  account  for  it." 


HERMOTIMUS 


I. 

i "  Wilt  not  lay  thee  down  in  quiet  slumber  ? 
Weary  dost  thou  seem,  and  ill  at  rest ; 
Sleep  will  luring  thee  dreams  in  starry  number — 
Let  him  come  to  thee  and  be  thy  guest. 
Midnight  now  is  past — 
Husband  !  come  at  last — 
Lay  thy  throbbing  head  upon  my  breast." 

II. 

"  Weary  am  I,  but  my  soul  is  waking ; 
Fain  I  'd  lay  me  gently  by  thy  side, 
But  my  spirit  then,  its  home  forsaking, 

Through  the  realms  of  space  would  wander  wide- 
E  very  thing  forgot, 
What  would  be  thy  lot, 
If  I  came  not  back  to  thee,  my  bride  ? 

III. 
"  Music,  like  the  lute  of  young  Apollo, 
Vibrates  even  now  within  mine  ear ; 
Soft  and  silver  voices  bid  me  follow. 
Yet  my  soul  is  dull  and  will  not  hear. 


HERMOTIMUS  209 

Waking  it  will  stay  : 
Let  me  waLeli  till  day — 
Fainler  will  the}'  come,  and  disappear." 

IV. 

"  Speak  not  thus  to  me,  my  own — my  dearest ! 

These  are  but  the  phantoms  of  thy  brain ; 
Nothing  can  befall  thee  which  thou  fearest, 
Thou  shalt  wake  to  love  and  life  again. 
Were  this  sleep  thy  last, 
I  should  hold  thee  fast, 
Thou  shouldst  strive  against  me  but  in  vain, 

V. 

"  Eros  will  protect  us,  and  will  hover. 

Guardian-like,  above  thee  all  the  night, 
Jealous  of  thee,  as  of  some  fond  lover 
Chiding  back  the  rosy-fingered  light — 
He  will  be  thine  aid : 
Canst  thou  feel  afraid 
When  his  torch  above  us  burnetii  liri!iht  ? 

VI. 

"  Lo  I  the  cressets  of  the  niu;ht  are  waninu' — 

Old  Orion  hastens  from  the  sky  ; 
Only  thou  of  all  things  art  remaining 
Unrefreshed  by  slumber — thou  and  I. 
Sound  and  sense  are  still; 
Even  the  distant  rill 
Murmurs  fainter  now,  and  languidly. 

o 


2  10  HERMOTIMUS 


VII. 


"  Come  and  rest  thee,  husband ! " — And  no  longer 

Could  the  young  man  that  fond  call  resist : 
Vainly  was  he  warned,  for  love  was  stronger — 
Warmly  did  he  press  her  to  his  breast. 
Warmly  met  she  his ; 
Kiss  succeeded  kiss. 
Till  their  eyelids  closed  with  sleep  oppressed. 

VIII. 

Soon  Aurora  left  her  early  pillow, 

And  the  heavens  grew  rosy-rich,  and  rare ; 

Laughed  the  dewy  plain  and  glassy  billow, 

For  the  Golden  God  himself  was  there ; 

And  the  vapour-screen 

Rose  the  hills  between, 

Steaming  up,  like  incense,  in  the  air. 

IX. 

O'er  her  husband  sate  lone  bending — 

Marble-like  and  marble-hued  he  lay ; 
Underneath  her  raven  locks  descending, 
Paler  seemed  his  face,  and  ashen  gray, 
And  so  white  his  brow — 
White  and  cold  as  snow — 
"  Husband  !  Gods  !  his  soul  hath  passed  away  ! " 


HERMOTIMUS  211 


X. 


Raise  ye  up  the  pile  with  gloomy  shadow — 

Heap  it  with  the  mournful  cypress-bough  1— 
And  they  raised  the  pile  upon  the  meadow, 
And  they  heaped  the  mournful  cypress  too ; 
And  they  laid  the  dead 
On  his  funeral  bed, 
And  they  kindled  up  the  flames  below. 

XI. 

Swiftly  rose  they,  and  the  corse  surrounded. 

Spreading  out  a  pall  into  the  air ; 
And  the  sharp  and  sudden  crackling  sounded 
Mournfully  to  all  the  watchers  there. 
Soon  their  force  was  spent, 
And  the  body  blent 
With  the  embers'  slow-expiring  glare. 

XII. 

Night  again  was  come ;  but  oh,  how  lonely 

To  the  mourner  did  that  night  appear ! 
Peace  nor  rest  it  brought,  but  sorrow  only, 
Vain  repinings  and  unwonted  fear. 
Dimly  burned  the  lamp — 
Chill  the  air  and  damp  — 
And  the  winds  without  were  moaning  drear. 


212  HERMOTIMUS 


XIII. 


Hush  !  ;i  voice  in  solemn  whispers  speaking 
Breaks  within  the  twilight  of  the  room ; 
And  lone,  loud  and  wildly  shrieking, 

Starts  and  gazes  through  the  ghastly  gloom. 
Nothing  sees  she  there  — 
All  is  empty  air, 
All  is  empty  as  a  rilled  tomb. 


XIV. 

Once  again  the  voice  beside  her  sounded, 

Low,  and  faint,  and  solemn  was  its  tone — 
"  Nor  by  form  nor  shade  am  I  surrounded, 
Fleshly  home  and  dwelling  have  I  none. 
They  are  passed  away — 
Woe  is  me  !  to-day 
Hath  robbed  me  of  myself,  and  made  me  lone. 


XV. 

"  Vainly  were  the  words  of  parting  spoken ; 

Evermore  must  Charon  turn  from  me. 
•Still  my  thread  of  life  remains  unbroken, 
And  unbroken  ever  it  must  be ; 
Only  they  may  rest 
Whom  the  Fates'  behest 
liom  Lheir  mortal  mansion  setLeth  free. 


HKRMOTIMUS  213 


XVI. 


"  I  have  seen  the  robes  of  Hermes  glisten — 

Seen  him  wave  afar  his  serpent-wand ; 
But  to  me  the  Herald  would  not  listen — 
When  the  dead  swept  ]iy  at  his  command, 
Not  with  that  pale  crew 
Durst  I  venture  too — 
Ever  shut  for  me  the  quiet  land. 

XVII. 

"  Day  and  night  before  the  dreary  portal, 

Phantom-shapes,  the  guards  of  Hades,  lie  ; 
None  of  heavenly  kind,  nor  yet  of  mortal, 
May  unchallenged  pass  the  warders  by. 
None  that  path  may  go. 
If  he  cannot  show 
His  last  passport  to  eternity. 

XVIII. 

"  Cruel  was  the  spirit-power  thou  gavest — 

Fatal,  0  Apollo,  was  thy  love ! 
Pythian  !  Archer  1  brightest  God  and  bravest, 
Hear,  0  hear  me  from  thy  throne  above  I 
Let  me  not,  I  pray, 
Thus  be  cast  away  : 
Plead  for  me — thy  slave— 0  plead  to  Jove  ! 


214  HERMOTIMUS 


XIX. 


"  I  have  heard  thee  with  the  Muses  singing — 

Heard  that  full,  melodious  voice  of  thine, 
Silver-clear  throughout  the  ether  ringing — 
Seen  thy  locks  in  golden  clusters  shine ; 
And  thine  eye,  so  bright 
With  its  innate  light, 
Hath  ere  now  been  bent  so  low  as  mine. 


XX. 

"  Hast  thou  lost  the  wish — the  will — to  cherish 

Those  who  trusted  in  thy  godlike  power  ? 
Hyacinthus  did  not  wholly  perish  ; 

Still  he  lives,  the  firstling  of  thy  bower ; 
Still  he  feels  thy  rays, 
Fondly  meets  thy  gaze, 
Though  but  now  the  spirit  of  a  flower. 


XXI. 

"  Hear  me,  Phoebus  !     Hear  me  and  deliver ! 

Lo !  the  morning  breaketh  from  afar — 
God !  thou  comest  bright  and  great  as  ever — 
Night  goes  back  before  thy  burning  car ; 
All  her  lamps  are  gone — 
Lucifer  alone 
Lingers  still  for  thee — the  blessed  star ! 


HERMOTIMUS  215 


XXII. 


"  Hear  me,  Phoebus  ! " — And  therewith  descended 

Through  the  window-arch  a  glory-gleam, 
All  effulgent — and  with  music  blended, 
For  such  solemn  sounds  arose  as  stream 
From  the  Memnon-lyre, 
When  the  morning  fire 
Gilds  the  giant's  forehead  with  its  beam. 

XXIII. 

"  Thou  hast  heard  thy  servant's  prayer,  Apollo  ; 

Thou  dost  call  me,  mighty  God  of  Day ! 
Fare-thee-well,  lone  ! " — And  more  hollow 
Came  the  phantom-voice,  then  died  away. 
When  the  slaves  arose, 
Not  in  calm  repose, 
Not  in  sleep,  but  death,  their  mistress  lay. 


CENONE 


On  the  holy  mount  of  Ida, 

Where  the  pine  and  cypress  grow, 
Sate  a  young  and  lovely  woman, 

Weepmg  ever,  weeping  low. 
Drearily  throughout  the  forest 

Did  the  winds  of  autumn  blow, 
And  the  clouds  above  were  flying, 

And  Scamander  rolled  below. 

"  Faithless  Paris  !  cruel  Paris ! " 

Thus  the  poor  deserted  spake — 
"  Wherefore  thus  so  strangely  leave  me  ? 

Why  thy  loving  bride  forsake  ? 
Why  no  tender  word  at  parting  ? 

Why  no  kiss,  no  farewell  take  ? 
Would  that  I  could  Imt  forget  thee — 

AVould  this  throbbins;  heart  mig;ht  l)reak  ! 

"  Is  my  face  no  longer  blooming  ? 

Are  my  eyes  no  longer  l3right  ? 
Ah  !  my  tears  have  made  them  dimmer, 

And  my  cheeks  are  pale  and  white. 


CENONE  217 

I  have  wept  since  early  morning, 

I  will  weep  the  livelong  night ; 
Now  I  long  for  sullen  darkness, 

As  I  once  have  longed  for  light. 

"  Paris  !  canst  thou  then  be  cruel  ? 

Fair,  and  young,  and  brave  thou  art — 
Can  it  be  that  in  thy  bosom 

Lies  so  cold,  so  hard  a  heart  ? 
Children  were  we  bred  together — 

She  who  bore  me  suckled  thee  ; 
I  have  been  thine  old  companion. 

When  thou  hadst  no  more  but  me, 

"  I  have  watched  thee  in  thy  slumbers, 

When  the  shadow  of  a  dream 
Passed  across  thy  smiling  features. 

Like  the  ripple  of  a  stream ; 
And  so  sweetly  were  the  visions 

Pictured  there  with  lively  grace, 
That  I  half  could  read  their  import 

By  the  changes  on  thy  face. 

"  When  1  sang  of  Ariadne, 

Sang  the  old  and  mournful  tale, 
How  her  faithless  lover,  Tlieseiis, 

Left  her  to  lament  and  wail ; 
Then  thine  eyes  would  fill  and  glisten. 

Her  complaint  could  soften  thee  : 
Thou  hast  wept  for  Ariadne — 

Theseus'  self  might  weep  for  me  ! 


2i8  (ENONE 

"  Thou  may'st  lind  another  maiden 

With  a  fairer  face  than  mine — 
With  a  gayer  voice,  and  sweeter, 

And  a  spirit  liker  thine  : 
For  if  e'er  my  beauty  bound  thee. 

Lost  and  broken  is  the  spell ; 
But  thou  canst  not  find  another 

That  will  love  thee  half  so  well. 

"  0  thou  hollow  ship  that  bearest 

Paris  o'er  the  faithless  deep, 
Wouldst  thou  leave  him  on  some  island, 

Where  alone  the  waters  weep  ? 
Where  no  human  foot  is  moulded 

In  the  wet  and  yellow  sand — 
Leave  him  there,  thou  hollow  vessel ! 

Leave  him  on  that  lonely  land  ! 

"  Then  his  heart  will  surely  soften, 

When  his  foolish  hopes  decay. 
And  his  older  love  rekindle. 

As  the  new  one  dies  away. 
Visionary  hills  will  haunt  him. 

Rising  from  the  glassy  sea, 
And  his  thoughts  will  wander  homewards 

Unto  Ida  and  to  me. 

"  0  !  that  like  a  little  swallow 
I  could  reach  that  lonely  spot ! 

All  his  errors  would  be  pardoned, 
All  the  weary  past  forgot. 


CENONE  219 

Never  should  he  wander  from  me — 

Never  should  he  more  depart, 
For  these  arms  would  be  his  prison, 

And  his  home  would  be  my  heart." 

Thus  lamented  fair  OEuone, 

Weeping  ever,  weeping  low. 
On  the  holy  mount  of  Ida, 

Where  the  pine  and  cypress  grow. 
In  the  self-same  hour  Cassandra 

Shrieked  her  prophecy  of  woe, 
And  into  the  Spartan  dwelling 

Did  the  faithless  Paris  go. 


THE   BURIED    FLOWER 


In  the  silence  of  my  chamber, 
When  the  night  is  still  and  deep, 

And  the  drowsy  heave  of  ocean 
Mutters  in  its  charmed  sleep, 

Oft  I  hear  the  angel-voices 

That  have  thrilled  me  long  ago, — 

Voices  of  my  lost  companions. 
Lying  deep  beneath  the  snow. 

0,  the  garden  I  remember, 
In  the  gay  and  sunny  spring, 

When  our  laughter  made  the  thickets 
And  the  arching  alleys  ring ! 

0  the  merry  burst  of  gladness ! 

O  the  soft  and  tender  tone  ! 
0  the  whisper  never  uttered 

Save  to  one  fond  ear  alone ! 


THE    BURIED    FLOWER  221 

0  the  light  of  life  that  sparkled 

In  those  bright  and  bounteous  eyes  ! 

0  the  blush  of  happy  beauty, 
Tell-tale  of  the  heart's  surprise  ! 


0  the  radiant  light  that  girdled 
Field  and  forest,  land  and  sea, 

When  we  all  were  young  together, 
And  the  earth  was  new  to  me  ! 


Where  are  now  the  flowers  we  tended  ? 
Withered,  broken,  branch  and  stem  ; 
Where  are  now  the  hopes  we  cherished  ? 


Scattered  to  the  winds  with  them. 


For  ye,  too,  were  flowers,  ye  dear  ones ! 

Nursed  in  hope  and  reared  in  love, 
Looking  fondly  ever  upward 

To  the  clear  blue  heaven  above : 


SmiUng  on  the  sun  that  cheered  us, 
Rising  liglitly  from  the  rain, 

Never  folding  up  your  freshness. 
Save  to  give  it  forth  again  : 


222  THE   BURIED    FLOWER 

Never  shaken,  save  by  accents 
From  a  tongue  that  was  not  free, 

As  the  modest  blossom  trembles 
At  the  wooing  of  the  bee. 


0  !  't  is  sad  to  lie  and  reckon 
All  the  days  of  faded  youth, 

All  the  vows  that  we  believed  in, 
All  the  words  we  spoke  in  truth. 


Severed — were  it  severed  only 
By  an  idle  thought  of  strife, 

Such  as  time  might  knit  together 
Not  the  broken  chord  of  life  ! 


0  my  heart !  that  once  so  truly 
Kept  another's  time  and  tune. 

Heart,  that  kindled  in  the  spring-tide, 
Look  around  thee  in  the  noon. 


Where  are  they  who  gave  the  impulse 
To  thy  earliest  thought  and  flow  ? 

Look  around  the  ruined  garden — 
All  are  withered,  dropped,  or  low ! 


THE    BURIED    FLOWER  22^; 

Seek  the  birth-place  of  the  lily, 

Dearer  to  the  boyish  dream 
Than  the  golden  cups  of  Eden, 

Floating  on  its  slumbrous  stream  ; 


Never  more  shalt  thou  behold  her- 
She,  the  noblest,  fairest,  best : 

She  that  rose  in  fullest  beauty. 
Like  a  queen,  above  the  rest. 


Only  still  I  keep  her  image 
As  a  thought  that  cannot  die ; 

He  who  raised  the  shade  of  Helen 
Had  no  greater  power  than  I. 


0  !  I  fling  my  spirit  backward, 
And  I  pass  o'er  years  of  pain ; 

All  I  loved  is  rising  round  me, 
All  the  lost  returns  again. 


Blow,  for  ever  blow,  ye  breezes. 
Warmly  as  ye  did  before  ! 

Bloom  again,  ye  happy  gardens, 
With  the  radiant  tints  of  yore  ! 


224  ^^HE   BURIED    FLOWER 

Warble  out  in  spray  and  thicket, 
All  ye  choristers  unseen  ; 

Let  the  leafy  woodland  echo 
With  an  anthem  to  its  i^ueen  ! 


Lo  !  she  cometh  in  her  beauty, 
Stately  with  a  Juno  grace, 

Kaven  locks,  Madonna-braided 
O'er  her  sweet  and  blushing  face 


Eyes  of  deepest  violet,  beaming 

With  the  love  that  knows  not  shame- 
Lips,  that  thrill  my  inmost  being 
With  the  utterance  of  a  name. 


And  I  bend  the  knee  before  her, 
As  a  captive  ought  to  bow, — 

Pray  thee,  listen  to  my  pleading, 
Sovereign  of  my  soul  art  thou ! 


0  my  dear  and  gentle  lady, 
Let  me  show  thee  all  my  pain, 

Ere  the  words  that  late  were  prisoned 
Sink  into  my  heart  again. 


THE    BURIED    FLOWER  22 

Love,  they  say,  is  very  fearful 

Ere  its  curtain  be  withdrawn, 
Trembling  at  the  thought  of  error 

As  the  shadows  scare  the  fawn. 


Love  hath  bound  me  to  thee,  lady, 
Since  the  well-remembered  day 

When  I  first  beheld  thee  coming 
In  the  light  of  lustrous  May. 


Not  a  word  I  dared  to  utter — 
More  than  he  who,  long  ago. 

Saw  the  heavenly  shapes  descending 
Over  Ida's  slopes  of  snow  : 


When  a  low  and  solemn  music 

Floated  through  the  listening  grove, 

And  the  throstle's  song  was  silenced, 
And  the  doling  of  the  dove : 


When  immortal  beauty  opened 
All  its  grace  to  mortal  sight. 

And  the  awe  of  worship  blended 
With  the  throbbing  of  delight. 


226  THE    BURIED    FLOWER 

As  the  sheiDherd  stood  before  them 
Trembling  in  the  Phrygian  dell, 

Even  so  my  soul  and  being 
Owned  the  magic  of  the  spell ; 


And  I  watched  thee  ever  fondly, 
Watched  thee,  dearest !  from  afar, 

With  the  mute  and  humble  homage 
Of  the  Indian  to  a  star. 


Thou  wert  still  the  Lady  Flora 
In  her  morning  garb  of  bloom ; 

Where  thou  wert  was  light  and  glory, 
Where  thou  wert  not,  dearth  and  gloom. 


So  for  many  a  day  I  followed 
For  a  long  and  weary  while, 

Ere  my  heart  rose  up  to  bless  thee 
For  the  yielding  of  a  smile, — 


Ere  thy  words  were  few  and  broken 
As  they  answered  back  to  mine. 

Ere  my  lips  had  power  to  thank  thee 
For  the  gift  vouchsafed  by  thine. 


THE    BURIED    FLOWER  227 

Then  a  mighty  gush  of  passion 

Through  my  inmost  being  ran ; 
Then  my  older  life  was  ended, 

And  a  dearer  course  began. 


Dearer  ! — 0,  I  cannot  tell  thee 
What  a  load  was  swept  away, 

What  a  world  of  doubt  and  darkness 
Faded  in  the  dawning  day  ! 


All  my  error,  all  my  weakness, 
All  my  vain  delusions  fled : 

Hope  again  revived,  and  gladness 
Waved  its  wings  above  my  head. 


Like  the  wanderer  of  the  desert. 
When,  across  the  dreary  sand, 

Breathes  the  perfume  from  the  thickets 
Bordering  on  the  promised  land ; 


When  afar  he  sees  the  palm-trees 
Cresting  o'er  the  lonely  well, 

When  he  hears  the  pleasant  tinkle 
Of  the  distant  camel's  bell : 


228  THE    BURIED    FLOWER 

So  a  fresh  and  glad  emotion 
Eose  within  my  swelling  breast, 

And  I  hurried  swiftly  onwards 
To  the  haven  of  my  rest. 


Thou  wert  there  with  word  and  welcome, 
With  thy  smile  so  purely  sweet ; 

And  I  laid  my  heart  before  thee, 
Laid  it,  darling,  at  thy  feet ! — 


0  ye  words  that  sound  so  hollow 
As  I  now  recall  your  tone ! 

What  are  ye  but  empty  echoes 
Of  a  passion  crushed  and  gone  ? 


Wherefore  should  I  seek  to  kindle 
Light,  when  all  around  is  gloom  ? 

Wherefore  should  I  raise  a  phantom 
O'er  the  dark  and  silent  tomb  ? 


Early  wert  thou  taken,  Mary ! 

In  thy  fair  and  glorious  prime, 
Ere  the  bees  had  ceased  to  murmur 

Through  the  umbrage  of  the  lime. 


THE    BURIED    FLOWER  229 

Buds  were  blowing,  waters  flowing, 

Birds  were  singing  on  the  tree, 
Every  thing  was  bright  and  glowing. 

When  the  angels  came  for  thee. 


Death  had  laid  aside  his  terror, 
And  he  found  thee  calm  and  mild, 

Lying  in  thy  robes  of  whiteness, 
Like  a  pure  and  stainless  child. 


Hardly  had  the  mountain  violet 
Spread  its  blossoms  on  the  sod, 

Ere  they  laid  the  turf  above  thee, 
And  thy  spirit  rose  to  God. 


Early  wert  thou  taken,  Mary  ! 

And  I  know  't  is  vain  to  weep — 
Tears  of  mine  can  never  wake  thee 

From  thy  sad  and  silent  sleep. 


0  away  !  my  thoughts  are  earthward  ! 

Not  asleep,  my  love,  art  thou  ! 
Dwelling  in  the  land  of  glory 

With  the  saints  and  angels  now. 


2  30  THE   BURIED    FLOWER 

Brighter,  fairer  far  than  living, 
With  no  trace  of  woe  or  pain, 

Robed  in  everlasting  beauty, 
Shall  I  see  thee  once  again, 


By  the  light  that  never  fadeth. 
Underneath  eternal  skies, 

When  the  dawn  of  resurrection 
Breaks  o'er  deathless  Paradise. 


THE   OLD   CAMP 

WRITTEN   IN    A    ROMAN    FORTIFICATION    IN    BAVARIA 


I. 

There  is  a  cloud  before  the  sun, 

The  wind  is  hushed  and  still, 
And  silently  the  waters  run 

Beneath  the  sombre  hill. 
The  sky  is  dark  in  every  place, 

As  is  the  earth  below : 
Methinks  it  wore  the  self-same  face 

Two  thousand  years  ago, 

n. 

No  light  is  on  the  ancient  wall, 

No  light  upon  the  mound ; 
The  very  trees,  so  thick  and  tall, 

Cast  gloom,  not  shade,  around. 
So  silent  is  the  place  and  cold, 

So  far  from  human  ken, 
It  hath  a  look  that  makes  me  old, 

And  spectres  time  again. 


232  THE    OLD    CAMP 


III. 

I  listen,  half  in  thought  to  hear 

The  Eoman  trumpet  blow — 
I  search  for  glint  of  helm  and  spear 

Amidst  the  forest  bough  : 
And  armour  rings,  and  voices  swell — 

I  hear  the  legion's  tramp, 
And  mark  the  lonely  sentinel 

Who  guards  the  lonely  camp. 


IV. 

Methinks  I  have  no  other  home, 

No  other  hearth  to  find ; 
Por  nothing  save  the  thought  of  Rome 

Is  stirring  in  my  mind. 
And  all  that  I  have  heard  or  dreamed, 

And  all  I  had  forgot, 
Are  rising  up,  as  though  they  seemed 

The  household  of  the  spot. 


And  all  the  names  that  Eomans  knew 
Seem  just  as  known  to  me. 

As  if  I  were  a  Roman  too — 
A  Roman  born  and  free : 


THE   OLD   CAMP  ^33 

And  I  could  rise  at  Coesar's  name, 

As  though  it  were  a  charm 
To  draw  sharp  lightning  from  the  tame, 

And  brace  the  coward's  arm. 


VI. 

And  yet,  if  yonder  sky  were  blue, 

And  earth  were  sunny  gay, 
If  nature  wore  the  summer  hue 

That  decked  her  yesterday, 
The  mound,  the  trench,  the  rampart's  space, 

Would  move  me  nothing  more 
Than  many  a  sweet  sequestred  place 

That  I  have  marked  before. 


VII. 

I  could  not  feel  the  breezes  bring 

Rich  odours  from  the  trees ; 
I  could  not  hear  the  linnets  sing, 

And  think  on  themes  like  these. 
The  painted  insects  as  they  pass 

In  swift  and  motley  strife, 
The  very  lizard  in  the  grass 

Would  scare  me  back  to  life. 


234  THE   OLD   CAMP 


VIII. 

Then  is  the  past  so  gloomy  now 

That  it  may  never  bear 
The  open  smile  of  nature's  brow, 

Or  meet  the  sunny  air  ? 
I  know  not  that — but  joy  is  power, 

However  short  it  last ; 
And  joy  befits  the  present  hour, 

If  sadness  fits  the  past. 


DANUBE   AND   THE   EUXINE 


"  Danube,  Danube !  wherefore  com'st  thou 

Eed  and  raging  to  my  caves  ? 
Wherefore  leap  thy  swollen  waters 

Madly  through  the  broken  waves  ? 
Wherefore  is  thy  tide  so  sullied 

With  a  hue  unknown  to  me ; 
Wherefore  dost  thou  bring  pollution 

To  the  old  and  sacred  sea  ? " 

"  Ha  !  rejoice,  old  Father  Euxine  ! 

I  am  brimming  full  and  red ; 
Noble  tidings  do  I  carry 

From  my  distant  channel-bed. 
I  have  been  a  Christian  river 

Dull  and  slow  this  many  a  year, 
Rolling  down  my  torpid  waters 

Through  a  silence  morne  and  drear ; 
Have  not  felt  the  tread  of  armies 

Trampling  on  my  reedy  shore ; 
Have  not  heard  the  trumpet  calling, 

Or  the  cannon's  gladsome  roar ; 


236  DANUBE   AND    THE    EUXINE 

Only  listened  to  the  laughter 

From  the  village  and  the  town, 
And  the  church-bells,  ever  jangling, 

As  the  weary  day  went  down. 
So  I  lay  and  sorely  pondered 

On  the  days  long  since  gone  by, 
When  my  old  primaeval  forests 

Echoed  to  the  war-man's  cry  ; 
When  the  race  of  Thor  and  Odin 

Held  their  battles  by  my  side, 
And  the  blood  of  man  was  mingling 

Warmly  with  my  chilly  tide. 
Father  Euxine  !  thou  rememb'rest 

How  I  brought  thee  tribute  then — 
Swollen  corpses,  gashed  and  gory, 

Heads  and  limbs  of  slaughter'd  men  ? 
Father  Euxine  !  be  thou  joyful ! 

I  am  running  red  once  more — 
Not  with  heathen  blood,  as  early. 

But  with  gallant  Christian  gore  ! 
For  the  old  times  are  returning. 

And  the  Cross  is  broken  down, 
And  I  hear  the  tocsin  sounding 

In  the  village  and  the  town ; 
And  the  glare  of  burning  cities 

Soon  shall  light  me  on  my  way — 
Ha !  my  heart  is  big  and  jocund 

With  the  draught  I  drank  to-day. 
Ha !  I  feel  my  strength  awakened, 

And  my  brethren  shout  to  me ; 


DANUBE    AND    THK    EUXINE  237 

Each  is  leaping  red  and  joyous 

To  his  own  awaiting  sea. 
Ehine  and  Elbe  are  plunging  downward 

Through  their  wild  anarchic  land, 
Everywhere  are  Christians  falling 

By  their  brother  Christians'  hand  ! 
Yea,  the  old  times  are  returning, 

And  the  olden  gods  are  here  ! 
Take  my  tribute,  Father  Euxine, 

To  thy  waters  dark  and  drear. 
Therefore  come  I  with  my  torrents, 

Shaking  castle,  crag,  and  town ; 
Therefore,  with  the  shout  of  thunder, 

Sweep  I  herd  and  herdsman  down  ; 
Therefore  leap  1  to  thy  l>osoni, 

With  a  loud  triumphal  roar — 
Greet  me,  greet  me,  Father  Euxine, 

I  am  Christian  stream  no  more  ! " 


THE  SCHEIK  OF  SINAI  IN  1830 
FROM    THE    GERMAN    OF    FREILIGRATH 


"  Lift  me  without  the  tent,  I  say, — 

Me  and  my  ottoman, — 
I  '11  see  the  messenger  myself ! 
It  is  the  caravan 

From  Africa,  thou  sayest. 

And  they  bring  us  news  of  war  ? 
Draw  me  without  the  tent,  and  quick  ! 

As  at  the  desert  well 
The  freshness  of  the  purling  brook 
Delights  the  tired  gazelle. 

So  pant  I  for  the  voice  of  him 
That  cometh  from  afar ! " 

II. 

The  Scheik  was  lifted  from  his  tent, 

And  thus  outspake  the  Moor : — 
"  I  saw,  old  Chief,  the  Tricolor 
On  Algiers'  topmost  tower — 
Upon  its  battlements  the  silks 
Of  Lyons  flutter  free. 


THE    SCHEIK    OF    SINAI    IN    1830  239 

Each  morning,  in  the  market-place, 

The  muster-drum  is  beat, 
And  to  the  war-hymn  of  Marseilles 
The  squadrons  pace  the  street. 

The  armament  from  Toulon  sailed : 
The  Franks  have  crossed  the  sea. 

III. 

"  Towards  the  south,  the  columns  marched 

Beneath  a  cloudless  sky : 
Their  weapons  glittered  in  the  blaze 
Of  the  sun  of  Barbary  ; 
And  with  the  dusty  desert  sand 
Their  horses'  manes  were  white. 
The  wild  marauding  tribes  dispersed 

In  terror  of  tlieir  lives ; 
They  fled  unto  the  mountains 

With  their  children  and  their  wives, 
And  urged  the  clumsy  dromedary 
Up  the  Atlas'  height. 

IV. 

"  The  Moors  have  ta'en  their  vantage-ground, 

The  volleys  thunder  fast — 
The  dark  defile  is  blazing 
Like  a  heated  oven-blast ; 

The  lion  hears  the  strange  turmoil, 
And  leaves  his  mangled  prey — 


2+0  THE    SCHEIK    OF    SINAI    IN    1830 

No  place  was  that  for  him  to  feed ; 

And  thick  and  loud  the  cries, 
Yen !— Allah  !  Allah !— En  avant ! 
In  mingled  discord  rise  ; 

The  Franks  have  reached  the  summit- 
They  have  won  the  victory  ! 


V. 

"  With  bristling  steel,  upon  the  top 

The  victors  take  their  stand : 
Beneath  their  feet,  with  all  its  towns, 
They  see  the  promised  land — 
From  Tunis,  even  unto  Fez, 
From  Atlas  to  the  seas. 
The  cavaliers  alight  to  gaze, 

And  gaze  full  well  they  may. 
Where  countless  minarets  stand  up 
So  solemnly  and  gray, 

Amidst  the  dark-green  masses 
Of  the  flowering  myrtle-trees. 

VI. 

"  The  almond  blossoms  in  the  vale ; 

The  aloe  from  the  rock 
Throws  out  its  long  and  prickly  leaves, 
Nor  dreads  the  tempest's  shock  : 
A  blessed  land,  I  ween,  is  that, 
Though  luckless  is  its  Bey. 


THE    SCHEIK    OF    SINAT    IN    1830  2+1 

There  lies  the  sea — beyond  lies  France ! 

Her  banners  in  the  air 
Float  proudly  and  triumphantly — 
A  salvo  !  come,  prepare ! 

And  loud  and  long  the  mountains  rang 
With  that  glad  artillery." 

VII. 

"  'T  is  they  ! "  exclaimed  the  aged  Scheik. 

"  I  've  battled  by  their  side — 
I  fought  beneath  the  Pyramids ! 
That  day  of  deathless  pride — 

Red  as  th}-  turban,  Moor,  that  eve, 
Was  every  creek  in  Nile  ! 
But  tell  me — "  and  he  griped  his  hand — 

"  Their  Sultaun.     Stranger,  say — 
His  form — his  face — his  posture,  man  ? 
Thou  saw'st  him  in  the  fray  ? 

His  eye — what  wore  he?"     But  the  Moor 
Sought  in  his  vest  awhile. 

VIII. 

"  Their  Sultaun,  Scheik,  remains  at  home 

Within  his  palace  walls  : 
He  sends  a  Pasha  in  his  stead 
To  brave  the  bolts  and  balls. 

He  was  not  there.     An  Aga  burst 
For  him  through  Atlas'  hold. 
Q 


242  THE   SCHEIK   OF   SINAI    IN   1830 

Yet  I  can  show  thee  somewhat  too. 

A  Frankish  Cavalier 
Told  me  his  effigy  was  stamped 
Upon  this  medal  here — 
He  gave      me  with  others 
For  an  Arab  steed  I  sold." 


IX. 

The  old  man  took  the  golden  coin : 

Gazed  steadfastly  awhile, 
If  that  could  be  the  Sultaun 
Whom  from  the  banks  of  Nile 
He  guided  o'er  the  desert  path — 
Then  sighed  and  thus  spake  he — 
"  'T  is  not  his  eye — 't  is  not  his  brow — 

Another  face  is  there : 
I  never  saw  this  man  before — 
His  head  is  like  a  pear ! 

Take  back  thy  medal,  Moor — 't  is  not 
That  which  I  hoped  to  see." 


EPITAPH   OF  CONSTANTINE    KANARIS 

FROM    THE    GERMAN    OF    WILHELM    MULLER 

I  AM  Constantine  Kanaiis : 

I,  who  lie  beneath  this  stone, 
Twice  into  the  air  in  thunder 

Have  the  Turkish  galleys  blown. 

In  my  bed  I  died— a  Christian, 
Hoping  straight  with  Christ  to  be ; 

Yet  one  earthly  wish  is  buried 
Deep  within  the  grave  with  me — 

That  upon  the  open  ocean 

When  the  third  Armada  came, 
They  and  I  had  died  together, 

Whirled  aloft  on  wings  of  flame. 

Yet  't  is  something  that  they  Ve  laid  me 

In  a  land  without  a  stain : 
Keep  it  thus,  my  God  and  Saviour, 

Till  I  rise  from  earth  again  ! 


THE    REFUSAL   OF   CHARON* 
FROM   THE   ROMAIC 


Why  look  the  distant  mountains 

So  gloomy  and  so  drear  ? 
Are  rain-clouds  passing  o'er  them, 

Or  is  the  tempest  near  ? 
No  shadow  of  the  temptest 

Is  there,  nor  wind  nor  rain — 
'T  is  Charon  that  is  passing  by. 

With  all  his  gloomy  train. 

The  young  men  march  before  him, 

In  all  their  strength  and  pride ; 
The  tender  little  infants, 

They  totter  by  his  side ; 
The  old  men  walk  behind  him, 

And  earnestly  they  pray — 
Both  old  and  young  imploring  liini 

To  grant  some  brief  delay. 

*  According  to  the  superstition  of  the  modern  Greeks,  Charon 
performs  tlic  function  which  their  ancestors  assigned  to  Hermes, 
of  conducting  the  souls  of  the  dead   to   the  other  world. 


THE   REFUSAL   OF   CHARON  245 

"  0  Charon  !  halt,  we  pray  thee, 

Beside  some  little  town, 
Or  near  some  sparkling  fountain, 

Where  the  waters  wimple  down  ' 
The  old  will  drink  and  be  refreshed. 

The  young  the  disc  will  fling, 
And  the  tender  little  children 

Pluck  flowers  beside  the  spring." 

"  I  will  not  stay  my  journey, 

Nor  halt  by  any  town, 
Near  any  sparkling  fountain, 

Where  the  waters  wimple  down  : 
The  mothers  coming  to  the  well, 

Would  know  the  babes  they  bore, 
The  wives  would  clasp  their  husbands. 

Nor  could  I  part  them  more." 


THE   END. 


PLYMOUTH 

WILLIAM    BRENDON   AND   SON, 

PRINTERS. 


UNIFORM  WITH   THIS   yOL. 

THE   BURLEIGH   LIBRARY. 

Each  work  is  reset  from  new  type. 

Title  page  designed  by  Richard  Mather,  and  printed 
in  red  and  black. 

Size  :      Extra  Large  Crozvn  8z'o. 
Paper  :    IV kite  high-class  Antique  Lai  J. 
Price  :    ij-.  6d.  per  l>oi. 

VOLUMES   ALREJDT  PUBLISHED: 
IVANHOE.  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

JANE  EYRE.  Charlotte  Bronte. 

THE   CAXTONS.  Lord  Lytton. 

ERNEST  MALTRAVERS.      Lord  Lytton. 

LAYS   OF    THE    SCOTTISH 

CAVALIERS.  Aytoun. 

VANITY  FAIR.  W.  M. Thackeray. 

THE  SCARLET  LETTER. 

Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 

Other  volumes  will  be  announce tly  and  will  appear 
at  short  internals. 


.  To  be  obta'tntd 

A  Cataloo-ue  of  New  Books  "/f/M^f;"-^ 

<J  and  at  all  libra- 

and  New  Editions  published  ^ZLL^plt 

yr«     on     remit- 

by  Bliss,  Sands  and  Co.  tance  o/the fub- 

•'  lished  price. 


Contents. 

Page  Page 

Economics,  Travel  Sc  Reminiscence  .    i        Fiction    .          .          .          .  .  .5 

Biography        .....    2            „         (continued)          .  .  .6 

Biography,  History,  and  Topography  ,    3    '    Works  on  Nature,  Poetry  .  .    7 

Miscellaneous,  Sc  Works  for  Children.    4    j    Classical  Reprints    .         .  .  .8 


ECONOMICS. 

Macleod.    ECONOMICS.     By  Henrv  Dunning 

Macleod,  Author  of  "The  Theory  of  Credit,"  "The  Ele- 
ments of  Banking,"  etc.      'Demy  %vo.      Clot/:,  price  \6s. 

r RAVEL   AND   REMINISCENCE. 

Wm.  Beatty-Kingston.    MEN,  CITIES,  &  EVENTS. 

By  Wm.  Beatty-Kingston.     Demy  %vo.     Price  \6s. 

Martin  Cobbett.    THE  MAN  ON  THE  MARCH. 

By  Martin  Cobbett.      Large  Crown  ^z'o.     Price  6s. 

Mrs.  Alec  Tweedie.   A  WINTER  JAUNT  TO  NOR- 

WAY.  With  Accounts  (from  personal  acquainlancc)  of 
Nansen,  Ibsen,  Bjornson,  Brandcs,  etc. — By  Mrs.  Alkc 
Tweedie,  Author  of  "A  Girl's  Ride  in  Iceland."  Fully 
Illustrated.  Second  and  cheaper  edition.  Detny  %vo. 
Trice  7.f.  6</'. 

John  Bickerdyke.    THE  BEST  CRUISE  ON  THE 

BROADS.  With  useful  hints  on  Hiring,  Provisioning, 
and  Manning  the  Yacht  ;  Clothing,  Angling,  Photography, 
etc.  By  John  Bickerdyke.  Illustrations  and  Maps,  Crown 
%vo.     Cloth  extruy  price  u.  6d. 


BIOGRAPHT. 
PUBLIC  MEN  OF  TO-DAY  :   An  International 

Series.  Edited  by  S.  H.  J  eyes. 

Volumes  already  Published. 
THE    AMEER,    ABDUR    RAHMAN. 

'By  Stephen  Wheeler. 
LI     HUNGCHANG.        By  Prof.  Robert  K.  Douglas. 

M.     STAMBULOFF.        By  A.  Hulme-Beaman. 

THE  GERMAN  EMPEROR,  WILLIAM  II. 

By   Charles  Lowe, 

THE  RT.  HON.  JOSEPH   CHAMBERLAIN. 

By  S.  H.  Jeyes. 

senQr  castelar. 

By  David   Hannay. 

THE   POPE,   LEO   XIII. 

'By  Justin  McCarthy. 

Forthcoming  Volumes. 

SIGNOR      CRISPI.  By  W.  J.   Stillman. 

PRESIDENT   CLEVELAND. 

By  James  Lovvry  Whittle. 
LORD    CROMER,  By  H.  D.  Traill. 


IVith  numerous   Portraits,  and  5\laps  where  necessary. 
Crown  8vo,  price  3/6  each. 


Francis   H.    Underwood,    LL.D.       JAMES     RUSSELL 

LOWELL  :    A  Monograph  entitlcil,  The   I'oet  and  the  Mnn.      By  the 
late  Francis  H.  Underwood,  LL.D. 

New  and  Cheaper  Edition.    Cro'iun  Sz'o,  cloth,  zs.  6d,    (The  bcjt  Edition, 
buckram,  gilt  top,  price  45.  6<^.,  can  still  be  obtained.) 


HISTORY. 

Edgar   Stanton   Maclay,    A.M.      A    HISTORY    OF    THE 

UNITED  STATES  NAVY,  from  1775  to  1893.  By  Edgar  Stanton 
Maclay,  A.M.  With  technical  revision  by  Lieutenant  Roy  C.  Smith, 
U.S.N.    In  two  volumes  (over  1000  pp.)     Demy  ivo,  gilt  top,  ^i  iis.  bd. 


rOPOGRAPHT. 

C.  R.  B.  Barrett.    CHARTERHOUSE.    1611-1895.    In  Pea 

and  Ink.  by  C.  R.  B.  Barrett.     With  a  preface  by  George  E.  Smythe. 

Containing  upwards  of  40  Drawings,  and  a  Copper-plate  Etching. 
Crcnvi!  ^to,  printed  on  the  fineit  art  surfaced  paper,  and  bound  in  Japanese 
•vellum.     Trice  6f.  net. 


C.  R.  B.  Barrett.  SURREY  :  Highways,  Byways,  and  Water- 
ways. With  about  160  pen  and  ink,  and  four  copper-plate  etchings. 
By  C.  R.  B.  Barrett,  Author  of  "Somersetshire:  Highways,  Byways, 
and  Waterways."     Crozvn  4.(0,  cloth  extra.     Price  Zis.  net. 

C.  R.  B.  Barrett,     SOMERSETSHIRE  :    Highways,   Byways, 

and  Waterways.  With  i6o  pen  and  ink,  and  four  (or  six)  copper-plate 
etchings.  By  Charles  R.  B.  Barrett,  Author  of  "Essex:  Highways, 
Byways,  and  Waterways." 

The  abo-ve  loork^  is  issued  in  ttvo  forms — 

(a)  The  ordinary  edition  in'crown  4to,  bound  in  cloth  extra,  with  four  copper- 
plate etchings,  on  Van  Gelder  Paper.     Trice  zis.  net, 

{b)  A  large  paper  edition,  limited  to  65  copies,  numbered  and  signed  by  the 
author.  This  edition  is  in  demy  4to,  printed  on  the  finest  plate  paper,  and 
contains  six  copper-plate  etchings.  The  work  is  sent  in  sheets,  together 
with  a  portfolio  containing  a  complete  set  of  India  proofs  of  the  whole  of 
the  Illustrations.      Price  £,z  zs,  each,  pest  free. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

Geo.    A.   Meagher.      FIGURE   AND    FANCY    SKATING. 

.  ■.«.-  Dedicated  to  Lady  Archibald  Campbell,  and  with  Preface  by  the  Eari 
or  Derby.  "By  George  A.  Meagher,  the  Champion  Figure  Skater  of 
the  World.      Profusely  Illustrated  with  Diagrams.     Crotvit  Sfo,  cloth,  51. 

Anonymous.     THE    STORY    OF    MY    DICTATORSHIP. 

New  and  Cheaper  Edition.    Sixth  thousand.    Cro'wn%'vo,clot/i,2s. ;  paper,  \i. 

Anonymous.     GOVERNMENT    BY    THE    PEOPLE.     By 

the  Authors  of  "  The  Story  of  My  Dictatorship."  Cro-am  %-vo,  paper 
co-jers,   I  s. 

A.   W.   Johnston.      STRIKES,    LABOUK     QUESTIONS, 

AND  OTHER  ECONOMIC  DIFFICULTIES.  By  A.  W.  Johnston, 
Author   of  "The  New   Utopia."     Croivn  %-vo,  cloth,  is.   6d. 

W.  E.  Snell.     THE  CABINET  AND  PARTY  POLITICS. 

■Sy  W.  E.  Snell.     Crown  81/0,  cloth,  is.  dd. 

Bessie  WiUiams.      THE    CLAIRVOYANCE    OF    BESSIE 

WILLIAMS  (Mrs.  Russell  Davies).  With  Preface  by  Florence 
Marryat,     Croivn   8x'o,  cloth,  ivith  Tort  rait,  its. 

Scriblerus  Redivivus.     THE  ART  OF  PLUCK.    By  Scrib- 

LERUS  Redivivus  (Edward  Caswall).  New  Edition.  Royal  idmo,  cloth, 
gilt  top,  2s.   (yd. 

Francis  H.  Underwood,  LL.D.      OUABBIN  :  The  Story  of  a 

Small  Town,  with  Outlooks  upon  Puritan  Life.  Bf  the  late  Fra.ncis  H. 
Underwood,  LL.D.  Numerous  Illustrations.  Large  Cromi  %-vo,  cloth, gilt 
top.    Next  and  Cheaper  Edition,  c,s. 

BOOKS   FOR    CHILDREN. 

R.  Murray  Gilchrist.  HERCULES  AND  THE  MARION- 
ETTES. By  R.  Murray  Gilchrist.  Fully  Illustrated  by  Charles  P. 
Sainton.     Large  Crown  ^to,  price  51. 

Ford  Hueffer.      THE    QUEEN    WHO    FLEW.      By   Ford 

HuEFFER.  With  Frontispiece  by  Sir  E.  Burne-Jones,  Bart.,  and  Border 
Design  by  C.  R.  B.  Barrett.     Imperial  i6mo,  cloth,  price  31.  6d. 

Wilhelmina  Pickering.    THE  ADVENTURES  OF  PRINCE 

ALMERO.  By  Wilhelmina  Pickering.  Illustrated  by  Margaret 
Hooper.      Imperial  i6mo,  cloth,  price   3^.   6d. 

Mrs.   Richard  Strachey.      NURSERY    LYRICS.     'By    Mrs. 

Richard  Strachey.  Illustrated  by  G.  P.  J.'^comb  Hood,  Imperial  i6mo, 
price  3-<.  6d. 

THE    STORr  BOOK   SERIES. 

1(oyal  i6mo,  half  cloth  extra,  and  Cupid  paper.  Illustrated,  \s,  hd,  each. 

1.  STELLA.     By  Mrs.  G.  S.  Reaney. 

2.  MY  AUNT  CONSTANTIA   J.^NE.     Bs  Maxy  E.   Hillah. 

3.  LITTLE  GLORY'S  MISSION,  and  NOT  ALONE  IN  THE  WORLD. 

By  Mrs.  G.  S.   Reaney. 

4.  HANS  AND  HIS  FRIEND.     By  Mary   E.   Hullah. 


FicrioN, 

Gabriel   Setoun.      ROBERT    URQUHART.     "By    Gabriel 

Setoun,    Author    of    "  Sunshine   and    Haar,"    and    "  Barncraig."     Large 

Crofon  Sxio,  iieckle  edge,  doth,  gilt  top,  6j. 

L.   T.    Meade.      STORIES    FROM    THE    DIARY    OF  A 

DOCTOR.     Second   Series.     By   L.   T.   Meade  and  Clifford  Halifax. 

Large  crcivn   S'vo,  cloth,  6s. 

Hon.  Mrs.  Henry  Chetwynd,  and  W.  H.  Wilkins.     JOHN 

ELLICOMBE'S  TEMPTATION.  By  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Henry  Chet- 
wynd and  W.  H.  Wilkins  (part  Author  of  "The  Green  Bay  Tree"). 
Croivn  S-co,  price  65. 

S.  R.  Crockett.    BOG-MYRTLE  AND  PEAT:  Tales  chiefly 

of  Galloway,  gathered  from  the  years  1889  to  1895.  By  S.  R.  Crockett, 
Author  of  "The  Stickit  Minister,"  "The  Raiders,"  etc.  Second  Edition, 
1 8th  thousand.     Large  Crottn  8to,  cloth,  gilt  top,  ds. 

Charles  T.  C.  James.    ON  TURNHAM  GREEN:  being  The 

Adventures  of  a  Gentleman  of  the  Road.  By  Charles  T.  C.  James, 
Author  of  "Miss  Precocity,"  "Holy  Wedlock,"  etc.  Third  Edition. 
Crotfn   S'VO,  cloth,  6s, 

Mona  Caird.    THE  DAUGHTERS  OF  DANAUS.    By  Mrs. 

Mona  Cairo.     Third  Edition.     Crotvn  S-vo,  480  pp.,  cloth,  6s. 

May  Orommelin.   DUST  BEFORE  THE  WIND,     ^y  May 

Crommelin,     Second  Edition.     Crorvn  S'vo,  cloth,  6s. 

Helen  P.  Redden.    M'CLELLAN    OF    M'CLELLAN.     By 

Helen  P.  Redden.     Croivn  81/0,  cloth,  6s. 

Charles  Dixon.    1500    MILES    AN    HOUR.     "By    Charles 

Dixon.  A  Book  of  Adventure  for  Boys.  With  Illustrations  by  Captain 
Arthur  Layard,  late  R.E.     Crotvn  S'vo,  cloth,  gilt  edges,  price  51. 

V.  Schallenberger.     A  VILLAGE  DRAMA.     By  V.  Schal- 

lenberger.  Author  of  "  Green  Tea."    Crotvv  S'vo,  dec{lc  edge,  gilt  top,  3;.  6d. 

E.  W.  Hornung.    THE  BOSS  OF  TAROOMBA.    By  E.  W. 

Hornung,  Author  of  "A  Bride  from  the  Bush,"  etc.  etc.  New  and 
Cheaper  Edition.     Cloth,  price  31.  6d. 

Esme  Stuart.    INSCRUTABLE.     By  Esme  Stuart.     Crotvn 

S'VO,  cloth,   3J.   6d. 

0.  Craigie  Halkett.  SCANDERBEG  :  A  Romance  of  Con- 
quest. By  Constance  Craigie  Halkett.  Large  Crown  S'vo,  cloth, 
price  31.   6d. 

Clementina  Black.    AN  AGITATOR  :   The  Story  of  a  Strike 

Leader,  By  Clementina  Black.  A  Novel  Dealing  with  Social  Questions. 
Croivn  S'VO,  cloth,  2s.   6d. 

Eden  Phillpotts.   A  DEAL  WITH  THE  DEVIL.    By  Eden 

Phillpotts,  Author  of  "In  Sugar  Cane  Land,"  etc.  Crcnvn  S-vo,  paper 
ce-vers,   is. 


FICTIO  N— continued. 

Charlotte  Rosalys  Jones.  THE  HYPNOTIC  EXPERI- 
MENT OF  DR.  REEVES,  and  other  Stories.  By  Charlotte  Rosalys 
Jones.     Fcap.  2)-uo,  cloth,  zs, 

F.  W.  Maude.     VICTIMS.     By   F.   W.    Maude.     New  and 

Cheaper  Edition.     Crvwn  8i;o,  cloth,  zs, 

William  Bullock-Barker.    LAME    DOGS  :    An  Impressionist 

Study.     By  William  Bullock-Barker.      Small  Crown  Z-vo,  cloth,   is.   (>d. 


THE     MODERN     LIBRARY. 

Sm^ll  Crown  ST^c,  cloth,  gilt  top,  is.;  paper,  \s.  6d.  each. 

1.  A  LATTER-DAY    ROMANCE. 

By  Mrs.  Murray  Hickson. 

2.  THE    WORLD'S    PLEASURES. 

By  Clara  Savile-Clarke. 

3.  "HEAVENS!"  'By  Alois  Vojtech    Smilovsky. 

4.  A    CONSUL'S    PASSENGER. 

By  Harry  Lander. 


The  fol lowing  surplus  LI  BR  ART  NOVELS 
can  now  be  had  at  6s.  the  set  of  two  or  three 
Volumes  : 

Charles  T.  C.  James.    MISS  PRECOCITY.  In  2  Volumes. 

Percival  Pickering.     A  LIFE  AWRY.  In  3  Volumes. 

Mrs.  G.  S.  Reaney.      DR.  GREY'S  PATIENT.    In  3  Volumes. 

Mrs.  Macquoid.  IN  AN  ORCHARD.  In  2  Volumes. 

May  Crommelin.         DUST  BEFORE  THE  WIND. 

In  2  Volumes. 


WORKS    ON    NATURE. 

Charles  Dixon.    BRITISH  SEA  BIRDS.    "By  Charles  Dixon. 

Author  of  "The  Migration  of  Birds,"  etc.  etc.  With  Eight  Illustrations 
by  Charles  Whymper.     Square  demy  %-vo,  cloth,  gilt  top,   los.  dd, 

J.  A.  Owen  and  Prof.  Boulger.     THE  COUNTRY  MONTH 

BY  MONTH.  By  J.  A.  Ovvkn,  &  Prof.  G.  S.  Boulger,  F.L.S.,  F.G.S. 
With  a  Cover  Design  by  J.  Lockwood  Kipling.  Price,  paper  coders,  gilt 
top,    \s.;   Cloth,  si/{  se^vii,  inlaid  parchment,  zs. 

The  above  consists  of  Twelve  Mofithly  Parts,  each  complete  in  itself. 

One  set  of  12  (paper),  in  paper  box,  price  i2j. 
„       5.  12   (cloth),  in  cloth   box,  price  24s, 

The  aho-ve  are  also  bound  in  Four  Q_uarterly  l^olumes — Spring  j  Summer  ;  Autumn  ; 
Winter— /)r;Vf  5^.  each  Volume.     Cloth,  bevelled  boards,  inlaid  parchment. 


gilt  edges, 

rd   Ste 

ture  StU( 
binding,   5^. 


Edward   Step.     BY    VOCAL    WOODS    AND    WATERS. 

Nature  Studies.     'By  Edward  Step.      Croivn  810,  fully  Illustrated,  ornamental 


POETRY. 

Lord  Granville  Gordon.     THE   LEGEND   OF   BIRSE,  and 

other  Poems.  By  Lord  Granville  Gordon.  With  a  photogravure  frontis- 
piece Portrait  of  the  Author.  Printed  on  hand-made  paper,  rubricated, 
and  luxuriously  bound  in  vellum.      Trice  £1    is.  net. 

Maxwell  Gray.      LAYS    OF    THE    DRAGON    SLAYER. 

%  Maxwell  Gray,  Author  of  "  Canterbury  Chimes,"  "  The  Silence  of 
Dean  Maitland,"  etc.  etc.     Fcap.  S-vo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  6s. 

G.  H.  Powell.     MUSA   JOCOSA.     A  Selection  of  the  Best 

Comic  Poems.  Edited  by  G.  H.  Powell.  Including  Works  by  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes,  Thackeray,  Calverlev,  W.  S.  Gilbert,  Bret  Harte, 
Hans  Breitman,  Lewis  Carroll,  T.  Hood,  and  from  the  Ingoldsby 
Legends  and  the  Rejected  Addresses,  etc.  With  a  Critical  Introductory 
Essay.      Small  Croven  Svo,  cloth,  2s.  66. 

E.  C.  H.     THE    SUICIDE  AT  SEA,  and  other  Poems.     Sv 

E.   C,    H.      Small  Croxtn  Sfo,  cloth,  price   is.   6d. 


CLASSICAL     %E  PRINTS. 

The    Cheapest    Books    in    the     World. 

Press  Opinions. 
TIMES. — "  Should  be  welcome  to  many  readers." 
'DAILY   TELEGRAPH.—''  Astonishingly  cheap." 
^THEN<:y£UM.—'' A  marvellous  florin's  worth." 

'BIRMINGHAM  'DAILY  TOST. — "May  stand  unashamed  on  any  library 
shelf.  ...   It  is  the  most  wonderfully  cheap  book  we  ever  saw." 

THE     LIFE     AND     ADVENTURES     OF     ROBINSON 

CRUSOE.  A  verbatim  reprint  of  Stothard's  Edition  of  1820,  with  re- 
productions of  the  20  Engravings,  separately  printed  upon  plate  paper,  and 
inserted  in  the  Volume.     384  pages.    Demy  8vo  (8|x  5^  inches). 

THE  ARABIAN  NIGHTS'  ENTERTAINMENTS.  A  re- 
print of  the  First  Edition  of  Lane's  Translation  from  the  Arabic,  with  the 
addition  of  Aladdin  and  Ali  Baba,  taken  from  another  source.  512  pp. 
Uniform  with  Robinson  Crusoe. 

UNCLE    TOM'S    CABIN.     'By    Harriet    Beecher    Stowe, 

with  a  Frontispiece  by  George  Cruikshank.  A  verbatim  reprint  of  the 
First  English  Edition.     320  pages.     Uniform  with  Robinson  Crusoe. 

THE  POETICAL  WORKS  OF  ROBERT  BURNS.     Sciited 

hy  John  Fawside.  With  a  Frontispiece  Portrait.  Uniform  with  Robinson 
Crusoe. 

The  abo-ve  'worlds  are  all  re-set  from  neiu  type,  veith  title  pages  in  red  and 
black,  and  are  printed  on  choice  antique  laid  paper,  and  bound  in  tivo  styles: 

[a)  Cloth  extra,  gilt  lettered  on  back,  price  2/-. 

[b)  Cloth  extra,  gilt  lettered  on  back,  gilt  edges,  and  profusely  deco- 
rated with  gold  on  front  and  back,  price  3/6. 

Owing  to  their  large  size  these  works  cannot  be  sent  post-free  for  2/- ; 
the  charge  for  this  is  6d.  in  addition. 


A    NEW    SERIES, 
OFFERING    EQUALLY    EXTRAORDINARY    VALUE. 

THE  VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD.  By  Oliver  Goldsmith, 
with  careful  reproductions  of  the  whole  of  the  Illustrations  by  William 
Mulready,  R.A.  a  facsimile  and  verbatim  reprint  of  the  First  Mulready 
Edition.     320  pages,  large  crown  8vo. 

GULLIVER'S  TRAVELS.  By  Jonathan  Swift,  with  re- 
productions of  the  original  plates.  A  verbatim  reprint  of  the  First  Edition. 
320  pages.     Uniform  with  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 

The  abo-ve  tvorks  are  both  re-set  from  nexp  type,  ivith  title-pages  in  red  and 
black,  designed  by  J.  Walter  West,  and  are  printed  on  choice  paper,  and 
bound  in  tvio  styles  : 

{a)    Cloth  extra,  gilt   lettered   on   back,  gilt  top,  and  gilt  panel  on 

front,  price  2/6. 
[b)    cloth  extra,  gilt  lettered  on   back  and  front,  gilt  edges,  and  pro- 
fusely decorated  with  gold  on  front  and  hack,  price  3/6. 


Date  Due 

1 

out   X  ^>  ' 

FEB       5J^ 

63 

1 

JAfV  1  g 

1983 

HAR  1  4  19 

BD 

, 

1 

I 

f) 

JNIVER! 


iTY  OF  CA ,  R|V6nSJDf  |Ll?fl^RY, 


3  1210  01222  0255 


UC  SOUTHl  RN  Ht  GIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
III   ||l{l    III    |ll  |l|    |lllj|||llll|llt   I    


AA    000  613  876    2 


PRU0U7 


L3 


Aytovn,  W.E* 

Lays  of  the  Scottish 
cavaliftrs. 


N.E.S.F 

Discount 

59  LINT 
M  I  O  O  L  C 


